


Sea Glass

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Driftwood [18]
Category: Broadchurch, True Love (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Series 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 94,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of survival. While Alec goes back to Scotland to recover on his father’s stud, Holly tries to build a new life for herself in Broadchurch. As if that weren’t complicated enough for either of them, an arsonist starts to terrorise Broadchurch, and Alec's life is turned upside down yet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set a week after Driftwood Seventeen (i.e. episode 8 of _Broadchurch_ ).
> 
> All recognisable characters and places belong to Chris Chibnall and Dominic Savage.

Part 1

Brochwinnnie

One

Ellie and Fred inadvertently ended up just outside the station. Fred was usually asleep in his push-chair. She sat on the cold wall separating the pier from the street, making sure to tuck the material of her orange windbreaker firmly beneath her bum. Sometimes she contemplated visiting Joe, and she felt guilty that she hadn’t when they moved him to the district prison. But despite the questions she had, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to ask them and they weren’t ready to be answered. Even if she did ask them, Joe probably couldn’t answer them any better than Alec already had.

She could have gone to the Ellipse Café, where it would have been warmer, but this was as close as she was going to go to the station. She didn’t want to run into any of her colleagues. She thought of the mess she'd left on her desk, but she wasn't allowed anywhere near it she wanted to clear up. She had to let the others sort through it to find whatever she had missed that might have led them to the killer sooner. Jenkinson hadn’t been able to tell her when she could return to duty; secretly Ellie hoped that it wouldn’t be for a while yet. She was only beginning to grasp the full impact of what Joe had done to their family.

The day was crisp and clear, and she had bought herself a cup of coffee, enjoying the feeling as the warmth seeped through the styrofoam and her cheap gloves. Fred was fast asleep, and she leaned against the wall, looking at the trio of octagonal buildings housing the local police station. So far, no one she knew had passed her or come up for a chat. She wasn’t really in the mood to talk to anyone. The attention had died down somewhat, and life continued around her, flowing past her like the tide around a large rock on the beach. At least, the water didn’t wash over her any more, as it had done in the first few days. She’d had a text from Beth, asking her to call whenever she felt like it. She wasn’t ready for that either.

A girl approached the station on her side of the pavement, glancing up from the screen of her smartphone to verify her position. She had a wheelie case and one of the oversized handbags that were so popular; it was bulging with her possessions. A traveller, obviously here for the first time. She was about Chloe’s age, and her golden brown hair spilled from beneath a colourful knitted hat with a faux-fur tassel.

“Are you all right, love?” Ellie asked, her instincts taking over.

“Yeah. Is this the police station?” She tried hard to hide her accent, but Ellie heard the mellow brogue.

“Yes. Doesn’t look like it, does it?”

“Not really, no,” she said, glancing at it.

Then inspiration hit. The girl’s hair, her dark eyes and accent encouraged Ellie to ask, “Are you looking for your father?”

The girl’s eyes went wide and she tightened her grip around the handle of her wheelie case, which she’d pulled up close beside her. “How did you know?”

“He’s a friend,” Ellie said.

The girl’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, and Ellie cursed herself for being so indelicate. At the same time, she learned that the girl couldn’t imagine her father with anyone else than her mother. “Just a friend. We work together. Worked.”

The girl mellowed. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Ellie said. “You won’t find him at the station. I’m Ellie, by the way. Miller.”

“I’m Teresa. Hardy.”

“It’s freezing and you look like you could do with something hot to drink. The café over there is nice. What do you think?”

Teresa hesitated, bless her. “I’d rather find Dad.”

“I could take you to his hotel, but I’m not sure he’s in,” Ellie said. Alec was taking long walks these days, by himself. She didn’t like that one bit, so she made him carry his phone at all times, just in case.

“Oh. Why isn’t he at the station then? Is he working a case?”

“No.”

Teresa looked puzzled. “But he did catch the boy’s killer? Danny?”

Ellie stiffened. “He did,” she said softly. “But… he’s not well.”

Alarm made Teresa pale beneath the flush of the cold in her cheeks. “What?”

Ellie cursed herself. What was wrong with her? “This really isn’t the place to tell you. Café?”

This time, Teresa nodded at once.

A short while later they were seated in a quiet corner in the café, with proper coffee, tea and a jacket potato each. Ellie had paid for the food, seeing how lost Teresa looked. Ellie had a hunch that Mrs Hardy didn’t know her daughter had come here. “You should tell your mum where you are. She’ll be worried sick,” Ellie said, peeling the thick blanket off Fred. He was still asleep.

Teresa looked thunderous at first. “She deserves to be worried.”

Ellie remembered then that the Echo had run Alec’s story about Sandbrook, and a day later the other papers had picked it up. She would have preferred it if Teresa had learned the truth from her father rather than from the media. S he knew that Teresa had punished her father by not talking to him, so the news must have come as a shock. “I’m a mum too. I’d like to know my boys are safe, particularly after we’ve had a row. Just send her a quick text.”

Teresa chewed the inside of her cheek, and Ellie smiled. She was a lot like her father. “All right,” she said. She showed her the message, and Ellie nodded as she watched her press the send button.

“Sometimes I hate it that both my parents are coppers,” Teresa sighed. “She’s probably had my mobile tracked anyway.”

“She'll be glad to know you’re all right. You know what kinds of case your parents are working.”

Teresa nodded. They tucked into their food, sharing the meal in silence. The warmth of the café made Teresa sleepy. Ellie wondered how long her journey had been, and when she’d set off.

When only the burnt skins of their potatoes were left, Teresa grew restless. “Tell me about Dad, please,” she said.

Fred chose that moment to wake, and Ellie had to feed him, so she asked Teresa to tell her side of the story first. The teenager was anything but happy about the arrangement, but she obliged Ellie anyway, watching her feed her baby boy. “When Dad first left, I thought he had betrayed Mum. I was so disappointed and angry with him because… I love him a lot, and I’d never believed he could do something like that to her. Or to me. I thought he didn’t love me any more either. My so-called friends at school started taking the piss because he lost the evidence to… have an affair with one of his sergeants. So I never answered his voice messages. But I listened to all of them. Because deep down I knew it wasn't true. It’s just not like him. I loved getting his messages.”

“Why don’t you reply now?” Ellie asked. Alec had told her how much Teresa’s silence hurt. She didn’t tell the girl that, however. It seemed she felt bad enough about it as it was; there was no need to tell her that her withdrawal probably contributed to Alec’s condition.

“I don’t know. I’m afraid of it, I suppose. I wouldn’t know what to say to him.”

Ellie sighed, but nodded. It was the default teenage answer, but she could see that Teresa really didn’t know. She saw the same kind of helplessness in Tom every day. “When did he last call you?”

“The day before the article was published. He just said the usual stuff. God, he sounded so… sad. I can’t —” Her eyes teared up and she finally looked away from Fred, staring out at the court. “I asked Mum why she hadn’t told me the truth. I was so disappointed in her. I thought she’d hooked up with Flo after Sandbrook, after Dad had left, but it was her fault that the case fell apart and her fault that Dad left. I’m so… so angry at her. And why did he cover up everything? Why did he take the blame?”

Ellie debated answering the question. It was Alec’s job to discuss this with Teresa, but she also saw how distressed his daughter was. Tears were streaming down her face now, and Ellie had a feeling that it wasn’t the first time Teresa had cried. “He loves you, and he wanted to protect you. You and your Mum,” she said.

And by answering her question she realised that she understood Joe a bit better. He’d hidden the terrible truth from them to protect them just a little bit longer. Joe knew that Ellie or Alec would figure it out sooner or later, but hadn’t he realised that protecting them only made things worse? Alec wasn’t any different. In his case, protecting his ex-wife and daughter had caused him so much emotional pain that it manifested in arrhythmia.

“I think I would have preferred… I don’t know,” Teresa sobbed. Ellie found a tissue in Fred’s diaper bag and gave it to the girl.

“The cases made your father ill, Teresa,” Ellie said. “That’s why he’s not at the station.”

Teresa looked up in alarm. “Oh God.”

Ellie covered her mouth with her hand. She could have put it more delicately, but what Teresa needed was the truth. She’d been lied to for her own protection long enough, and if she sugar-coated Alec’s condition now, Teresa would lose even more trust in adults. Besides, Alec would pretend he was all right. He’d be strong for his daughter again.

“He’s had a lot to deal with. The Sandbrook case, the pendant. Losing you and then the case here. The stress causes his heart to beat irregularly at times,” Ellie explained.

Teresa blinked. “He’s had a heart attack?”

“Not quite. A syncope, but it was a near thing, one night when we were chasing… the killer through a dry dock at the beach.”

“So he’s in hospital?”

“He should be, but he isn’t.”

Teresa sobbed. “That’s so typical.”

Ellie smiled. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s probably out for a walk. I can call him, though, if you want,” Ellie said, handing Fred his sippy cup and giving Teresa a chance to pull herself together.

“I don’t want to upset him,” Teresa said.

“Sweetheart, I think that you are exactly who he needs right now,” Ellie said. _Well, you and Holly._ “I could ask him to meet for tea later. If you like. You could surprise him. After you’ve taken a nap.”

Teresa’s smile changed from tentative to bright as she warmed to the idea, and if she was as much like her father as Ellie thought, she got an idea of what Alec’s smile was like. She didn’t see it often. “Let’s do that.”

Teresa’s hands were shaking with excitement as Ellie drew up Alec’s number on her mobile, so she reached for the girl’s hands and covered them with her free hand.

“Ellie?”

“Hi, Alec. Where are you?”

“I don’t need a bloody nanny, Miller,” he growled, using her last name as he always did when he was mildly annoyed with her.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to warm up over a nice cuppa later,” she said.

Alec sighed, and she pictured him running his hand over his face. “All right, then. But no urging me to go see a doctor or find a house, aye?”

“Promise,” Ellie said. “Would mine be okay?”

“I cannae believe that ye can stay there,” he said.

“It’s all I’ve got, and the kids need the familiarity of the place.” She’d explained it to him before, once she’d gotten over her own surprise.

“Aye. I’ll be there.”

Ellie disconnected the call.

“What happened to your house?” Teresa asked.

Ellie stared at the screen of the phone and watched it go blank after a while. “My husband is the killer. Forensics were in our house for a while, so we moved to a hotel.” She looked up at the girl.

Teresa clearly didn’t believe her, but Ellie repeated her sentence.

“And you never knew?” Teresa asked in disbelief.

“No.”

“I never knew about Mum and Flo either. Nor did Dad,” Teresa said. “Still. It must be awful.”

“It’s not that he’s the killer. Well, it is, but…” Ellie said, surprising herself. She’d not expected to discuss this delicate matter with a runaway teenager, but maybe it was a perfect stranger she needed to talk to, a young one with a worldview that was only beginning to blur into grey areas from the clear black and white of childhood. “He didn’t want to kill Danny. It was an accident. And I believe him. But I find it hard to understand the nature of his relationship with Danny.”

Teresa nodded to let her know that she understood that the house wasn’t a crime scene and that she was safe there. “I see.”

-:-

Tom was suspicious of Teresa when he returned from school. It was only his second day back, but he seemed all right. Better than all right, despite his black eye. There had been an assembly to tell everyone what had happened, but it didn’t seem to matter. Kids will use any excuse they can find to bully others. Thankfully, Tom had stood up for himself, and the ensuing brawl had cleared the air. She was surprised that the teachers had let it go without punishing Tom. The bullies, however, hadn’t gotten off quite so easily, she was assured. Tom’s friends, whom they had told the story to before Tom went back to school, were understanding and protective of him, but no less baffled than anyone else by what had happened. It helped, of course, that Chloe Latimer backed Tom fully. Ellie didn’t quite trust this delicate status quo, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Tom avoided Teresa, preferring the solitude of his room over playing with Fred and her. “Give him a while,” Ellie told Teresa.

Teresa looked better after a shower and a nap, and while they waited for Alec to come round to the house, she played with Fred so Ellie had a chance to neaten the place a bit. She was thinking of rearranging the furniture and finally painting the bedroom — in the colour she’d wanted in the first place, not the compromise she and Joe had settled on. She’d probably throw out the bed and get a new one. The idea of sleeping in it made her skin crawl. She had moved to the spare bedroom for the time being.

When Alec finally arrived, she told Teresa to stay where she was. “So I can give your father an advance warning. I don’t want to upset him unnecessarily.”

“Yeah,” Teresa agreed, wringing her hands. “Gives me a chance to take a deep breath too.”

Ellie gave her upper arm a squeeze before she left to answer the door. Alec’s cheeks were flushed with cold, but he looked better for it. His hair was tousled from the breeze that had picked up in the afternoon, and he had wrapped a scarf tightly around his neck. “Hello, Alec,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter.

He held out a paper bag. “I brought scones,” he said, holding it out to her.

“Oh, that’s… nice. Thanks.”

“They were on offer, buy four get one free.”

Ellie suppressed a grin, watching him take off his coat and wondering how to break the news to him.

“That’s lucky, because you’ve got a visitor,” she said, opening the crumpled up bag to inspect the contents. It was a mixture of plain scones and some with raisins.

“ _I_ have a visitor?” he asked, frowning. “Did Becca send them over from the hotel?” He toed off his walking boots.

“No, I found her at the station.”

“You back on duty already?”

“No. I was just out for a stroll with Fred.”

“She?” Alec asked, straightening after he’d put the boots neatly away so no one stumbled over them. He wiggled his stocking toes.

“Teresa’s here, Alec,” Ellie said. “I met her outside the station. She was looking for you.”

For a rare few moments, he was speechless, and then the colour drained from his face. Ellie dropped the scones onto the small table and guided him to sit on the bottom risers of the stairs.

“Teresa is here?” he asked once the dizzy spell was over and he trusted himself to open his eyes again.

“Yes. She’s making tea,” Ellie said, hearing her filling the kettle in the kitchen. “Is that all right?”

He nodded dumbly, taking a few deep breaths.

“Are you all right, Alec?”

“Aye,” he breathed. “Just give me a minute.”

Ellie squeezed in the narrow space between him and the wall, and he budged to make room on the stairs for her.

“Is Emma here too?” he asked eventually.

“No. But she knows, now, that Teresa’s here,” Ellie said.

“Good.” He ran his fingers through his hair, restoring it to some kind of order. “What am I going to tell her?”

“You’re her Dad, you’ll think of something. And even if you don’t, you can always hug her. Both of you look like you could do with one.”

A ghost of a smile flitted over his face. “Aye. Well then.” He stood slowly, and Ellie couldn’t help thinking how much he moved like an old man, despite the rest he’d had in the past week. He really needed to have his arrhythmia treated. Maybe Teresa was the key to his heart.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin Baxter is the name of the Scottish doctor Alec asks for advice in the shelter on the pier. His name appears in the closing credits.

Two

His heart felt trapped in the narrow space of his chest, and for a few moments he didn’t think he’d be able to face Teresa. Alec wanted to spin on his heel and run and hide. It was an irrational thought, and the idea that he was scared of his beloved daughter added to the feeling of being caged-in. He wanted desperately to have her back in his life, but he was afraid. Afraid she’d reject him again. He’d not given a moment’s thought to why she had come to find him; he’d not even asked Ellie what Teresa’s mood was.

“Ellie,” he said, shakily. She was just inside the kitchen, and when she heard his voice, Teresa joined her at the door.

That stunning young woman wasn’t Teresa, a voice screamed inside his head, but he told it to shut up because that stunning young woman was his daughter. He’d recognise her anywhere. She had grown and become a little curvier, and now that she wore her hair up in an untidy bun or ponytail, her cheekbones were more prominent, accentuating her dark eyes. The only feature she had gotten from her mother was her mouth.

“Dad!” she said when she saw him.

He just stared. He hadn’t seen her in eighteen months, and he’d left her behind promising to call her and that he loved her, that it wasn’t her fault that he was going away, and that he would call her often. Which was, of course, before the press had scattered the lies he’d sown. His heart skipped a beat, literally, and he took a deep steadying breath to counteract the searing pain in his side. “Teresa. Darlin’.”

He blinked, and then she was in his arms and he held her close, inhaling her familiar scent. She held so tightly to him that he could barely breathe, but for once he enjoyed the feeling because it was Teresa and she was holding him.

He rested his cheek against the crown of her head, careful not to break her, and tried to match his breathing to hers. It was difficult, however, because she was beginning to cry, and when he opened his eyes he felt his own tears spill over and dampen his skin.

“It’s okay,” he rasped. “It’s okay, darlin’, I’ve got ye.”

He could hear Ellie potter about in the kitchen, giving them time to compose themselves. Teresa still felt the same in his arms, even though she’d grown. He turned his head and kissed her hair, wrinkling his nose as a few of the hairs sticking out at odd angles from her untidy bun tickled it. He kissed her hair again and loosened his grip around her to wipe his own tears away.

“I’ve missed ye so,” he said.

“I know, I was so horrible to ye,” Teresa sobbed. He took her by the shoulders and gently manoeuvered her away from him so he could look at her.

“Hey, look at me.”

Her eyes were puffy and red, reminding him so of the little girl with whom he’d cuddled on the sofa after some drama had rocked her world. Framing her face with his hands, he looked intently at her, smiling. “It’s nae yer fault, darlin’. I wanted to protect ye and yer mother.”

“But why didn’t she tell me that… that… Oh, Dad, and I feel so horrible for never returning yer calls. Ye sounded so sad in the last one,” she sobbed.

Reaching for the box of tissues on the hall table, he plucked two or three from it and gave them to his daughter.

“I wanted it that way.”

“What?”

“To keep ye safe. To make sure ye still loved yer mother, at least.”

“But what she did was horrible!”

Alec pursed his lips. He couldn’t argue with that, and now that Teresa knew what had happened, there was little point in denying it. She was clever, and he didn’t want to lie to her. She’d not believe him anyway. “I’m so glad ye’re here.”

“Is it true? What Ellie said? About your heart?” Teresa asked.

“Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this here,” he said, picking up the bag of scones and taking the wadded-up tissues from her to deposit them in the bin in the kitchen. It was time to free Ellie from the prison of her kitchen.

After they had settled at the table with tea and scones, Ellie said, “You’ve avoided her question. About your condition.”

For a moment he was annoyed that Ellie knew him so well already, but he also knew that she would ensure that they’d talk. Alec glared at her. “We’ve barely settled down, Miller.”

“Just saying,” Ellie said, pouring the tea. She looked from him to Teresa and from Teresa and him. “Like two peas in a pod.”

Alec and Teresa flushed, and he pursed his lips. “Liar. She’s beautiful.”

Ellie scoffed. “You’d look better if you’d let the doctors treat you.”

“Is it really that bad?” Teresa asked wide-eyed.

“Now look what ye’ve done,” Alec groused, upsetting Fred who’d been playing with his own plastic tea set in his high chair. The little boy stared at him in shock, then began to voice his distress. Alec reached to stroke his head, cooing nonsense to him to calm him down. Comforting Fred worked. When he looked up at Ellie, she looked genuinely surprised. “What?” he asked.

“I had no idea you were so good with kids,” Ellie said.

“I’m not completely useless, Miller, thank you very much,” he grumbled.

“He’s the best,” Teresa said, making him flush again. What were they doing to him?

“I just feel I don’t know you at all,” Ellie said by way of apology.

“Ye’re right, ye don’t,” he said, sipping his tea.

“No, really. Despite all the long shifts we’ve pulled together, I don’t know anything about you.”

“I wanted it that way,” he said.

Ellie leaned back, folding her arms. “We’re no longer working together.”

“Why not?” Teresa asked.

“I was medicalled out because of my arrhythmia,” Alec said.

“Which happens to be complete nonsense,” Ellie added.

He looked at her.

“And you know it,” she said.

Alec leaned back in his chair. Of course he knew that, but he was so tired of everything that he hadn’t been completely forthcoming with the information the chief medical officer needed, plus he hadn’t seen Martin yet for the examination by an external physician. But he knew that his condition was treatable. If he acquiesced to treatment. “Aye.”

“Dad? What does that mean?”

“It means that your father needs some rest and TLC, and that the Chief Super bullied him out of service. Which she has no right to do, because there are rules that protect policemen with health problems,” Ellie explained.

“Is that true? Dad?”

“Aye,” he said, looking at her and reaching for her hand. “But it’s all a bit more complicated than that, isn’t it, Ellie?”

“I think,” she said carefully, “you need time to think before you make a final decision.”

“You’ve always wanted to be a policeman,” Teresa said.

He felt cornered, and while he was confident that Ellie knew it, Teresa didn’t. Her world was enviably simple when it came to plans and morals yet at the same time utterly complicated by the changes in her life and body. “It’s complicated.”

She hated that answer. She wanted to be treated like an adult, but was still so innocent, and he wanted to protect her for as long as possible. He had seen all the depths men could go, and then some, in his line of work. Danny’s case just darkened the blackness of the hole. “I’ll explain it to ye, aye? Not just… now.”

“Your father’s right,” Ellie said. “You’ve only just been reunited. You ought to give each other some time. There are many things to consider.”

Teresa sighed but chose to be sensible. She really had grown up in the past eighteen months. Maybe he ought to give her more credit. Alec understood only now how much she must have changed in his absence, and how much his leaving, his lies and her mother’s girlfriend must have affected her.

“I’m sorry for putting ye through all that, darlin’,” he said. “I promise we’ll talk about it, but I… I need to make sense of it all first, aye?”

This time, Teresa nodded and gave him a grateful smile. His stomach chose that moment to rumble embarrassingly, making Teresa giggle and Ellie frown. His eating habits had always been of concern to her, why, he couldn’t fathom, but she twisted her lips into a smile for Teresa’s sake. He cast her a quick glance to say thanks.

“Where are you going to stay?” Ellie asked as they cut their deliciously crumbly scones in half.

“At the Trader’s, of course. Becca will be glad for the extra business,” he said, fishing for his phone with one hand while licking the clotted cream off his thumb.

“You’re staying at a hotel?” Teresa asked. “Why haven’t you found a flat?”

“There… has been so little time to go house-hunting,” he stammered. The force hadn’t complained about his extended stay at the hotel, but since he’d been medicalled out he’d paid for the room himself. Teresa was right; he ought to get a flat. Or maybe not, considering. He’d just stay at the Trader’s, sending Emma enough money to support Teresa and using the rest of the money up for himself.

“I don’t like that expression,” Ellie commented.

“Damn, Miller,” he groused, reaching out for Fred at once to appease him.

Teresa gave them a shrewd look.

“Will ye let me make that call?” he grumbled, drawing up Becca’s number at the hotel. He booked a room for her and asked Becca to send a cab to pick them up from Ellie’s. When Teresa went to the bathroom, he turned his gaze to Ellie. “What are you doing?”

She looked at him aghast.

“Did ye call her to tell her to come, change my mind about the operation?” he asked, slipping into interview mode.

Ellie’s expression changed into disbelief and from there into anger. “Do you think that Teresa would have come, after ignoring you for a year and a half, just because one of your colleagues called her? Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this whole bloody case is that nothing is worse than your child punishing you by not loving you any more,” she said with barely contained rage. She dropped her scone onto the plate and stood, shaking. “I can’t believe you’d think me capable of doing something like that, Sir.”

It was his turn now to stare at her aghast, and right at that moment the floorboards squeaked under Teresa’s weight as she hovered in the doorway. He started to wonder how much of the conversation she’d heard when she said, “I think I’d better go.”

“No!” he roared, jumping up and upsetting Fred in the process. This time, however, he did not rush to comfort the little boy. “No! Don’t go. I’m sorry, both of you.” His chest tightened around his heart and lungs, forcing the air out of him and he straightened to catch his breath, gasping. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the lack of air or the lack of space, until he saw the expression of sheer terror in his daughter’s face. That, he understood, was the worst.

-:-

He knew at once that he was in hospital again. The smell of disinfectant and the bland smell of the gown they’ve put on him and the bedclothes around him gave it away. There was also the gentle hissing and bubbling of the oxygen supply, and the soft bleeping of the heart monitor. He wiggled his fingers and felt the IV needle move against the bones and tendons, and he groaned. The oxygen cannula must have slipped; it pressed uncomfortably against the inside of his nose. When he attempted to raise his hand to adjust it, he found it trapped in someone’s fingers.

“Holly?” he asked, hoping against hope that she’d returned to him, had somehow learned he was in hospital. Again.

The fingers tightened around him. “No, Dad. It’s me.”

He forced his eyes open. The light in the room was dim, which was a blessing. “Teresa, darling,” he said, his tone more puzzled than it ought to be. His mouth had no chance to catch on to his racing thoughts. Of course it was Teresa. She’d come to find him after she’d read the article in the newspaper.

Her face swam into focus and he turned his head to look at her. “Dad?”

“Aye, darlin’,” he rasped.

“You had a syncope,” she explained.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” she said.

He remembered then what had brought the blackout on.

“I came to find you because I wanted to. Mum didn’t even know at first,” Teresa explained. “It’s not Ellie’s fault, aye?”

He nodded. His mouth and throat were painfully. “Drink?” he asked.

Teresa smiled and let go of his hand to fill the plastic cup on his bedside table with water. She helped him raise his head so he could drink through the straw. The cool water was exquisite, but sucking was exhausting. He pushed the straw from between his lips with the tip of his tongue.

In the process, the nose cannula slid completely out of his nose, and despite his resistance to the treatment, he was glad when Teresa gently put it back in place. At the same time he thought that it wasn't her job. He was meant to be taking care of her, not the other way round.

“How bad is it?” he asked, offering his hand so Teresa could take it again. She did. He gave her slender hand a grateful squeeze.

“You ought to stay this time, Dad.”

He closed his eyes. He was so tired.

“I called Martin. He’ll come and see you tomorrow,” Teresa explained.

He turned his face away from her. Martin was good as well as bad news. He wouldn’t put up with him discharging himself, he'd insist on making sure he got treatment. Hopefully without having to fit him with a pacemaker. The idea of a battery and a computer beneath his collarbone and wires in his heart terrified him. Maybe, if he was lucky, there was another way, but he doubted it. He’d resisted treatment so long that he was sure he had already inflicted irreparable damage to the heart muscle.

“Thanks,” he said, looking at her so she knew he meant it.

“Who’s Holly?” she asked.

“A friend.”

“A girlfriend?” she asked, her voice wavering. Was the idea of him having found someone else so horrible?

“Dunno,” he managed to say. “Sorry, darlin’. Tired.”

He could see by the way her lips quirked that she wanted to ask him more, but she held back, accepting his unspoken plea. He promised her silently to be absolutely honest with her when he felt better. Which meant being honest with himself.

“Aye, sorry, Dad.”

“Go home, rest. I’ll be here in the mornin’,” he said. God, but he was tired.

“I’d rather —”

“Teresa. Please.” He didn’t want her here. She was tired and she shouldn’t be here. Where the hell was Miller?

“Right. Good night, Dad. I love you,” she said, rising to kiss his cheek.

“Come here,” he rumbled, touching her cheek so she held still as he kissed her forehead, her eyes, the tip of her nose and her mouth. It was a childhood ritual they had dropped in favour of a more grown-up kiss to the cheek, but tonight he needed the reassurance. As, he hoped, did she. “Love you too, darlin’.”

-:-

Martin arrived so early the next morning that he didn’t have a chance to see either Teresa or Ellie before he was whisked away by the porter to various examination rooms.

It was good to see Martin again, even if the doctor regarded him with a sorrowful gaze. At least he didn’t treat him to his “I told you so“ speech; Martin knew him well enough to be sure that he was tearing himself apart over it to make the speech unnecessary.

Alec had to admit, as he sat in a wheelchair outside yet another exam room, that if it hadn’t been for Teresa, he’d not be sitting here, allowing them to poke and prod him. They had a long journey of reconciliation ahead, and he was willing to undertake it.

But she wasn’t the only person he wanted to live for. He was still hoping to get a chance to talk to Holly. He felt like a right bastard for treating her the way he had, not allowing her a chance to explain herself. Instead, he’d run because he’d been unable to distinguish between his private and his professional life. The problem was that Danny and the Sandbrook girls had gotten so deeply under his skin that the need to protect everyone who was dear to him was more powerful than ever, more powerful than the need to protect himself. Consequently, he had forgotten about himself, and here he was.

Hopefully, Holly would give him another chance, when he was out of here. He didn’t want her to see him like this. She’d be obliged to be understanding and taking the blame. It wasn’t her fault that he had let himself go like he had.

Had he mentioned Holly to Teresa the previous night? He wasn’t quite sure, it all seemed such a blur.

He jumped a little when the door opened and out came Martin. “Well then,” he said, smiling.

“Aye,” Alec nodded, putting his elbows on the armrests and interlacing his fingers with each other. Whatever his friend had in store for him, he was ready.


	3. Three

“Who told you that you wouldn’t survive the operation?” Martin asked, taking off his glasses. They were sitting by the window on the ward. The blinds were mostly closed, letting in only a bit of the warm sunlight. Alec contemplated the stripes it highlighted on the gown and robe he’d been given. His feet were cold; there hadn’t been any socks his size. At least, this time he had the room to himself.

“The bloke in charge back home. I forget his name,” Alec said, looking up.

“Well, either he’s a moron or you misunderstood him.”

Alec scoffed.

“Anyway. I see no reason why you’d not survive the operation,” Martin said.

Alec swallowed. “What’s that mean?”

“It means that… blimey, Alec, did you really believe you were a dead man?” Martin asked.

Alec looked away, towards the diamond-shaped window in the door. He was wondering who’d open it next. Either of the three women were welcome, but he knew only two of them were likely to come and see him. “Where’s Teresa?” he asked.

“I sent her sightseeing,” Martin said.

“There isnae much to see round here.”

Martin raised his eyebrows to suggest that he begged to differ. It only occurred to Alec then that he was thinking of the house on St Andrews Road. All these weeks he’d tried hard to ignore the place. “Bastard,” he ground out. 

“If that’s what it takes,” Martin said, shifting a little in his seat. “Ye need to settle down, son. Particularly if ye want to get better.”

Alec drew a deep breath. “I’m not even sure I could move in. It must be… a bit neglected. If there isnae some poor bugger who watches it living there in return for a nigh non-existent rent.”

“Yer father —”

Alec huffed. “Ye’re nae playing fair, Martin.” 

“Ye should talk to him, Alec. Don’t make it doctor’s orders.”

Alec ran his fingers through his increasingly filthy hair. He needed a shower badly. Martin was right, of course. If he’d come here as part of his penance, he’d so far made an excellent job of ignoring the oldest problem. He hadn’t wanted to admit that it might have contributed to his current condition, which was a stupid thing to do. On top of it all, he was contradicting himself, and that was infuriating. He was. If he was paying penance, it was for more than just Sandbrook. His own experience with the Broadchurch area was beginning to haunt him as well. Martin’s history with the family gave him a fair idea of what was bothering Alec, and why being in Broadchurch was exacerbating his problems.

“I’m not going to talk to a bloody shrink,” Alec said.

Martin sighed. “All right. But you should talk to someone. It might be a good idea to leave this place for a while.”

“What?” Now Martin was contradicting himself.

“Go and talk to your father. Get some rest before you come back here.”

“Who says I want to stay here?”

Martin gave him a pitying look. Sometimes Alec wished he had Martin’s knack for drawing information out of reluctant patients.

“We’re going to try a different way to treat your condition, one that will, hopefully, eliminate the need for a pacemaker altogether. For now. Your heart muscle hasn’t been damaged too badly, so it’s safe to try a different drug that might work better for you,” Martin said, changing the topic. “In addition to that, I suggest a trip to Scotland before you come back to work for the Wessex Police.”

“How d’ye know I want to come back?” Alec grumbled, thinking of the former detectives club of which he and Ellie were exclusive members. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that neither he nor Ellie had meant it when they’d talked about leaving Broadchurch. They’d just raised the topic to remind themselves of how much they liked the place and their jobs. It was a form of reverse psychology.

Martin took the question to be rhetoric and didn’t answer it.

“Can I see Teresa now?” Alec asked.

“She’s out and about in town,” Martin said. “Can I ask you something personal?”

Alec was about to remind him that they had been discussing very personal matters, but nodded for him to go ahead anyway.

“What about Ms Carlisle?”

“Who?”

Martin laughed. Then he stopped when he saw his blank expression. Then Alec began to understand. “Holly? Her name is Carlisle?”

“Apparently, you never bothered to check the names on the list of staff at the local school. There are three Hollys on it, but there’s only one who teaches English and is in charge of the Arts Club,” Martin said. “We doctors have to play at being detectives more often than you think.”

“I had no idea you were such an admirer of _House M. D.,_ ” Alec grumbled.

Martin laughed.

“How d’ye know about Holly?”

“Teresa asked me,” Martin said. “I haven’t told her about what I found out.”

He’s always known how to find her; all he had to do was go to the school — not that a bit of detecting on his part wouldn’t have given him the same information without compromising propriety. Just as her declaration of love had, knowing her full name encroached on the separation they’d established; the agreement that their relationship was companionship and sex. “Thanks. Keep it that way.”

“Why?”

“It’s over,” Alec said, fiddling with his name bracelet.

Martin sighed but nodded. “Holiday it is then. I’ve got you booked on a train for Glasgow tomorrow. Together with Teresa.”

Alec pursed his lips. Maybe a little distance would do him good, even though going back to Scotland meant facing his oldest demons. He wondered briefly if it wouldn’t have been easier to get that pacemaker after all.

-:-

“You never said you had a house here,” Ellie said, watching him stow away his small library in a banana box. They had picked it up at the supermarket on their way from the hospital to the Trader’s. Ellie had agreed to keep the books for him while he was on leave. He’d joked about them being his promise to return, but he wasn’t entirely sure she’d understood his joke.

“See? I am coming back,” he said, taking out several larger volumes to fit even more small books into the gap. There, that was better.

Ellie huffed. “I’ll never understand what makes you tick, Sir.”

“What would be the fun in that?” he asked.

“The house?”

“Aye, Dad. Why didn’t you stay there, instead of this place? It’s a nice house,” Teresa pointed out.

Feeling cornered, he sat on his heels, holding the books, wondering when he’d managed to purchase — and read — them all. “I wasn’t sure when I first came here that I wanted to stay,” he began, touching his chest over his heart. “Besides, someone lives on the ground floor.”

“Yeah, like staying in a house full of strangers makes you alone,” Ellie scoffed.

“Actually, it does. The people in the hotel are strangers, the lot of them, who'll keep to themselves. Whereas a tenant is bound to come up with a cup of coffee sooner or later. For a neighbourly chat,” he added for good measure.

“Heaven forbid that should happen,” Ellie sighed. “Speaking of which, I could kill for one. What about you?”

“When I’m done here,” he said.

“I’ll let Becca know,” Ellie said, picking up one of the boxes to carry it to her car.

“You never used to be like this,” Teresa said after the door had closed behind Ellie.

Alec sighed. “I’d never been hurt like this.”

Teresa wrapped her arms around him and he let go of the books to hold her. He couldn’t fathom how he ever thought it was a good idea to take the blame for what her mother had done. It made no sense now that it would have protected her in any way. He was just glad that he had her back. And he was glad that he’d told Ollie and Maggie about Sandbrook. After all, clearing it up so publicly, without embarrassing or hurting Em or Flo, had been more important than being officially and fully exonerated.

He stroked Teresa’s hair and back, enjoying the solidness of her comfort. “I’m so glad you came to find me,” he said, kissing the side of her head.

“Are you really going to move down here?” Teresa asked, pulling back.

“I suppose so.”

“Why? It’s so far away from home.”

Alec sighed. “I must build a new home for myself now, darlin’. I might as well start here and look after the old house. I spent a lot of time here as a wee lad.”

“You actually like it here? Despite everything that’s happened?”

He didn’t have to think long. “Aye. I’ve got… friends here. Which is more than I could say about Glasgow.”

Now Teresa looked offended. “What about Moray and Han?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. Moray was his best friend, and he’d agreed to be Teresa’s godfather, which meant that ever since the Sandbrook case he’d been more of a father-figure to her than he had. Hopefully. They had finally stopped trying to contact him after he’d ignored their multiple attempts early on.

“Now I know why Moray couldn’t find you when he came down here,” Teresa said.

Alec was speechless. He'd expected Moray to come looking for him, but when he never showed up, he'd assumed that Moray hadn't bothered searching him rather than thinking that his hideout was a good one. “He did?”

Teresa nodded.

“You see now why I stayed here rather than at the house? I didn’t want him to find me.”

“You called me.”

“And you didn’t want to talk to me either, now, did you?”

Her face fell, but surprisingly she had the maturity to bite her lip and nod.

“I did it to protect you, and your mother and… and myself,” he said.

There was a knock on the door that announced Ellie’s return. He picked up the books and just dropped them into the box. Considering how little he brought with him when he flew in from Glasgow, he’d certainly had quite a bit now, especially the books he’d collectd.

He climbed to his feet to add the jar of sea glass to the box. He couldn’t bring himself to throw it out, but neither could he take it to Glasgow with him. All he was going to keep as a memento of his wonderful time with Holly was the shard that reminded him of her eyes, and the drawing of the mug on the beach.

“I had no idea there was so much sea glass to be found on our beach,” Ellie said.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said. “This is too heavy for you.”

“No, it’s all right,” she replied.

He took the box from her to carry it to her car. Once his belongings were stowed in her small dark Peugeot, he sniffed and pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Ellie,” he began.

“I’m making dinner,” she blurted. “Tonight, as a farewell party for you.”

His eyes widened. He’d just been about to ask her out to dinner, to thank her for everything she’d done for him, most notably not giving up on her attempts to befriend him.

“It’s not… a big party. It’s just you and me and the boys. And Teresa, of course,” she hurried to say. “It’s not… well, I’m a…”

Alec knew what she was trying to say, and seeing her struggle broke his heart. “Thank you, Miller. I’m looking forward to trying your cooking. Me and Teresa both.”

Ellie’s expression was a priceless mix of annoyance at the use of her last name and relief. She covered it by asking if there was anything either of them didn’t like. “I never asked the first two times. Seems we were lucky.”

“I eat pretty much anything. As for Teresa, you’ll have to ask her yourself. I’m not familiar with her culinary tastes anymore,” he said, trying not to feel chagrined about the fact. It was just a small thing to know about your child, but all the small things added up to one big thing, the biggest of them all: Teresa. 

He suddenly realised what a horrible mistake he’d made with his misguided attempt to protect her. He felt the urge to tell Ellie that, to tell her not to cut off Fred and Tom from their father, no matter what. But now was not the time for that conversation.

“I’ll just ask her then.”

“What’s your favourite national cuisine?” he asked as they went back to his hotel room.

“Certainly not Mexican,” Ellie scoffed.

“Ellie,” he said gently. He had been thinking when he’d asked. “I could cook for you, if you want.”

“Don’t take the piss,” she said, her face a study in disbelief and disappointment.

Alec had a feeling that he couldn’t get anything right with her today, and he sighed in resignation. “I wouldnae dream of taking the piss.”

She shook her head in her inability to accept his offer. He took her by the shoulders and looked at her for a few beats. Her eyes were darting from side to side as she searched his expression. Eventually, he pulled her into his arms. He didn’t care who might see them in the hotel’s car park. Let them think what they wanted, he knew that what he was doing was the right thing. 

It took Ellie a while to relax into his comfort, but when she did he felt her sag against him as if all the fight in her had rushed out of her in a shuddering breath.

“Hey,” he said softly, rubbing her back.

“I had no idea you cooked.”

“Believe it or not, I’m used to feeding myself.”

“I’m not sure that’s comforting. You’re a skinny streak of nothing,” she said, pulling back.

“That’s because I havnae had access to a kitchen in a couple of months,” he said. “I’m actually a quite decent cook. Or at least no one has dared tell me otherwise so far.”

“That’s because it’s not necessary. You’re a great cook, Dad,” Teresa chimed in. She’d come to find them in the car park.

“It’s a farewell dinner. You’re not supposed to make it yourself,” Ellie protested.

“Honestly, Miller, have ye ever seen me stick to the rules?”

Finally, Ellie laughed, and she brushed the tears off her face.

“We could prepare dinner together,” he suggested. “Each of us makes what we’re best at. Teresa, for example, makes a mean Tiramisu.”

Thankfully, his daughter nodded enthusiastically.

“I suppose we’d better go shopping then,” Ellie said. “Would you like Holly to join us?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Ellie stared at him. “Why would it be?”

Alec looked at Teresa. She didn’t know about Holly, and he knew he owed her an explanation, but he wanted to be alone with her when he told her about Holly.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, is all.” He implored her with his eyes to leave it be. Thankfully, Ellie seemed to catch on; her gaze drifted towards Teresa, and there was a flash in her eyes that clearly indicated that she hadn’t thought of the girl at all. _Well, thanks for nothing,_ he thought, pursing his lips.

He draped his arm around Teresa’s shoulders in an attempt to appease her. He wasn’t looking forward to telling her about Holly, but he also felt he needed to. He suspected that Teresa had put him on a bit of a pedestal, and as flattering as that was, he didn’t want that. After all that had happened, his daughter deserved the truth about why he’d done what he’d done. And that included Holly, although she wasn’t part of his life anymore. Perhaps telling her about Holly would be a lesson in telling people how you feel about them when you have the chance.

“Oh, all right. Shall we go to the supermarket then? Unless you need… to consult with a cookbook first?” Ellie said.

“I think I’ll manage without one. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your eating habits?” he asked Teresa.

“I havenae. I love eating too much, although Mum’s a rubbish cook.”

“Aww,” Ellie sighed.

“Don’t say that,” Alec replied. He didn't want Teresa to turn tables on her mum.

“It’s true,” Teresa insisted. “Dad _is_ the better cook. Even Flo isn’t as good.”

“Flo?” Ellie asked.

Alec gave her The Look.

“Oh. Right. Well then, I suppose your Dad had better live up to Tom’s and my expectations,” Ellie said. She unlocked the car again and they got in. Roughly an hour later they pulled into the drive beside Ellie’s house, the boot filled with their shopping.

Alec hated strange kitchens. He also hated the idea of making himself at home in Joe’s kitchen.

“I’ll give you the grand tour of the place before we get started,” Ellie said, opening all the cupboards and drawers to show them where they could find the utensils and ingredients they needed; that included the pantry. Her generosity and trust touched Alec, and for a brief moment he didn’t want to leave the next day. He was finally beginning to feel truly comfortable in Ellie’s company, and he hated having to leave, which prompted him to invite her to the stud.

“What?” Ellie’s face went slack.

“My father owns a stud,” he said nonchalantly. “I thought… it might be fun for the boys — and you — to come up over half term. Unless any of you are allergic to all sorts of beasties.”

Ellie blinked. “I hadn’t pictured you on a stud at all. Do you ride?”

“I havenae in a while,” he said. “So little time.”

“But you’re going to… back home?”

“Aye, if Dad lets me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“As I said, it’s been a while.”

"But isn't it like riding a bike?"

Alec guffawed. "I suppose it is."

They started to prepare dinner, learning to move around in the kitchen without getting in each other’s way rather quickly. At one point, Ellie opened a bottle of wine for herself, while Alec and Teresa stuck to water and juice. Teresa diluted her apple juice with sparkling water, which was something she’d learned on the school exchange trip.

“When did you go on that exchange?” Alec asked, puzzled. He chewed the inside of his cheek. He shouldn’t really be surprised, but Teresa’s casual explanation of her drinking habit reminded him of how much they had to catch up with. A train trip was the best opportunity to do so, he supposed.

“Last January, to a small town outside Munich. It was lovely with all that snow,” she explained, soaking the biscuits briefly in the double shot of espresso she’d coaxed out of Ellie’s complicated contraption of a coffee-maker.

“So your German is quite good then?” Ellie asked. “I’m impressed. I’m absolutely useless when it comes to foreign languages.”

Teresa blushed but beamed at the same time. Apparently, languages were her forte. “I’d like to sit my Standards in German,” she said.

Alec lowered his gaze back to the chopping board. It wouldn’t do if he cut off his fingers.

“Dad?”

He looked up, smiling. “I was just thinking how much I’ve missed ye, darlin’.”


	4. Four

Four

“The house looks in need of some repair,” Teresa said, tearing her eyes away from the landscape flitting past. Alec, too, had spotted the ruined farmhouse which had prompted Teresa’s comment. She’d been staring out of the window since the surprisingly and perplexingly tearful goodbye from Ellie as they left Broadchurch. Ellie had insisted on giving them a lift to the train station since she’d not been fit to drive the previous night, so he and Teresa had taken a cab to the hotel. 

Becca, too, had been sorry to see him leave, but Alec wasn’t quite so sure if she was really going to miss him or the regular payments by the Wessex Police. She’d offered to take them to the train too, but he’d declined. “Is there anything you’d like to leave behind? For Holly?” Becca had asked.

“No. Thank you, Becca, for everything,” he said. She’d never charged him when Holly stayed the night.

“So, is this goodbye forever? Is it true what they say?”

“What _do_ they say?”

“That you’ve been medicalled out.”

Alec chewed the inside of his cheek. “It’s true, but… mistakes were made. On all sides.”

“So you’re coming back?” she asked, her eyes lighting up. Somehow, that involuntary reaction touched him more than her words did. 

“Let me recover first, aye? Then we’ll see,” he’d said.

“What?” he asked, roused from his thoughts by Teresa’s voice. His fingers had been busy with the brown piece of glass in his pocket.

“The house looks in need of some repair,” she repeated.

“Dad won’t like that,” he murmured.

“Why didn’t you stay there?” Teresa asked.

“The hotel is close to the station, and you know I’m nae supposed to drive,” he said.

Teresa smiled softly. She knew him well enough to recognise an excuse when she heard one, but also well enough to not bore into him.

“What?” he asked.

“You stuck to _that_ rule,” Teresa pointed out.

He sighed. “It’s one thing to endanger oneself, but as soon as others factor into the equation… there isn’t really a choice, is there?”

She looked at him for a while, pursing her lips. He knew what she was thinking.

“I just… I couldn’t stay, Teresa,” he said helplessly.

She looked out of the window again. He was awed by her beauty once more. Teresa had always been a pretty child, but in the past year and a half, while he'd been away, she’d grown up and outgrown some of the baby fat. She was stunning. And, his cynical part added, anyone on the train might think Heaven knows what about him travelling in the company of a girl like Teresa. Particularly after Danny. And after what Holly had told him about herself and Karen. But he didn’t care. He knew better. Teresa _was_ his daughter, and he was proud of her. He told her that.

She blushed adorably.

Then her eyes filled with tears.

His eyes widened in alarm. What had he done now? “Darlin’, sweet, what’s wrong?” he asked, his nose growing itchy. He’d always been unable to bear her tears, no matter the cause.

“I’ve been so horrible to you,” she sobbed.

“It’s because I wanted you to hate me rather than your Mum,” he tried to explain. Again.

“Still. You sounded so heartbroken in your messages. And I ignored you. Well, not really. I always replied to them, in my head, but really I wanted to call you. So bad. But…”

“It’s all right, darlin’.”

“No, it’s not,” she sobbed.

He found a packet of tissues in his satchel and offered it to her. She was sitting facing him, with a table between them. He couldn’t hug her, and for a few moments he debated moving to sit next to her.

“I wanted it that way,” he insisted. “About the house.”

Teresa sniffed. “The garden is a mess. Grandpa has rented the ground floor to someone, to look after the rest of the place. It’s a nice old building, supposedly designed by Thomas.”

The Glasgow Hardys weren’t related to the author in any way, but still they insisted on referring to him by his first name, as if he were family. Alec’s maternal great-grandfather had acquired the house after the Great War, and now it was his, although his father still administrated it, along with the stud and the Glasgow flat. Really, Alec should be taking more of an interest in the Broadchurch house. But George, his father’s right hand, was taking care of things, and the place had been let when Alec had decided to transfer to the very south of the island. He hadn’t wanted George to evict the tenant on his behalf, particularly not since the Wessex Police were willing to pay for the hotel room. Besides, what he’d told Teresa was the truth; the house was quite a ways from the station, and he hated the idea of having to rely on a driver.

“Aye.”

“I had no idea we had this place.”

He shrugged. There had been no need to tell her. “Do you like it?”

“It looks gorgeous.”

He smiled. “Maybe we ought to have it spruced up a bit.”

“Are ye really going back to Broadchurch? When ye’re better?” Teresa asked.

“Would that be a bad idea?”

“I wouldnae get to see ye often,” she pointed out.

“Ye could come and live with me.” The words were out of his mouth before he was even aware of them. “Ye could get yer A-levels there. The school is supposed to be very good. And we’d avoid all that confusing stuff about the changing curriculum and standards back home.”

“Ye’ve been keeping up,” Teresa said in surprise.

“Course I have,” he mumbled.

“I’d love to stay with you, Dad,” Teresa said. “But I’ve got all my friends in Glasgow.”

He smiled painfully. Of course she did. How selfish of him to suggest she leave them behind. They were so important for her; she saw them more often than she did Em or Flo. Or him, for that matter. “Holidays, then?”

“Definitely. But I’ll think about the rest.” She smiled. 

Alec returned the gesture. He’d really love to have Teresa with him, and he was grateful for every day she was willing to spend in his company. That she’d even consider moving to Broadchurch puzzled him on many different levels. 

First of all, his subconscious had made his decision for him. He definitely wanted to stay in Broadchurch, however miserable he’d been in the place, both as a wee lad and as a detective. Second, Teresa was willing to spend her precious holidays in England, rather than somewhere sunny, and with him to boot. He might not be able to be there for her all the time; he just didn’t have as much time off as pupils did. He didn’t even want to begin to think of her moving down there with him permanently. He couldn’t ask that of her. Or of Em.

“Think carefully, darlin’,” he advised.

“Dad. About Holly…”

He sighed. “I met her on the pier,” he began. There wasn’t any way he could wiggle out of discussing her any more, so he might as well tell Teresa everything.

“You love her?” she asked with a shaky voice once he was done. 

“It’s possible to love more than just once in yer lifetime,” he said gently. He’d never believed it himself after the divorce from Em, but it was true. Or at least he wanted it to be true.

“Then why aren’t you and Holly together? She told you she loves you, right?”

“It’s nae that simple, darlin’.”

She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “It never is with you adults.”

He laughed, but ultimately he had to agree with her. “We’ve got to get ready,” he said, casting a glance at his watch. Outside the window, the London cityscape was moving past now. “We’re nearly at Waterloo Station.” He didn’t like the idea of getting on the crowded Tube to go to Euston, but it couldn’t be helped. For a few moments he debated taking a longer lunch break in London, but that would have meant an even later arrival in Glasgow, and he didn’t want that either. If he were to move to Broadchurch for good, they’d have to arrange for a different means of travel for Teresa. Ten hours on trains just wasn’t much fun. At all. But that was the price to pay if he wanted to get as far away from Em and Flo as possible. He wondered if it was still worth it.

Because really, there wasn’t much to keep him in Broadchurch, apart from Ellie. He might as well join the Strathclyde Police again. If they wanted him back, that was, in all his damaged glory. The truth was that he was on sick leave and he wasn’t ready to make decisions of this kind right now. They could wait until his health was more stable. Who knew, he might end up running Brochwinnie after all. Or perhaps he’d take up the offers he’d had to teach; both the Strathclyde Mounted branch and Scottish Police College in Tulliallan Castle had sought him out. His professional possibilities really were quite rich.

If only it were that way with his personal life. Well. He had Teresa back and he needed to focus on her, which would be easier if he stayed in Scotland.

“Ye’re miles away, Dad,” Teresa said gently, touching his interlaced fingers where they rested on the table top. “We’d better get ready.”

“Aye,” he said, smiling. She was right. He was thinking too much.

When they crossed London on the Northern Line, Teresa rested her head on his shoulder as the train rattled and jerked them about. “I’m sorry about Holly. I’d have liked things to work out for you two,” she murmured.

Unable to reply, he just draped his arm around her, kissing her temple. He still had no idea why Em had suddenly preferred Flo over him. He still had no idea why he’d had not known that Em was interested in women. He still had no idea why he’d run like he had. 

-:-

When Alec went to bed that night, he felt as though he were still on the train. He could feel the wheels hammering against the tracks, and, occasionally, his mind even supplied the movement of the train negotiating points. He fell into a dreamless sleep, however, and woke late in the morning. He was disoriented at first because he’d not been back to Brochwinnie in a while, at least not since Mrs Coulter had decided that the guesthouse needed a makeover. 

He found himself in a low-ceilinged room with exposed beams and polished floorboards. Although the blinds were down, he could tell that the day was glorious, and he rolled to lie on his side. For a few beats he indulged in the fantasy of having Holly by his side, but he stopped himself when it became too painful. What was he doing, anyway? He had rejected her because of his own insecurities when she’d finally had the courage to tell him how she felt about him. Afterwards, she’d made it clear that she didn’t want him. He’d hurt her too much.

Alec groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. His own heart had betrayed him on the beach, when he’d had a chance to make amends. And now it was too late. His texts to Holly went unanswered.

Sitting up, he was glad to find that instead of the chintz and tartan décor the neighbouring B&Bs were so fond of Mrs Coulter had settled for simple, yet cosy, furnishings and fabrics.

He got up and padded to the en suite to get ready for the day. The bathroom had state-of-the-art fixtures, and he found it difficult to get out of the shower. When he left his room eventually in search of some tea he saw that Mrs Coulter had set him up in the two-bedroom family suite. She'd had his belongings brought out of storage; the boxes with the things he’d not taken to Broadchurch were neatly stacked. Not that there were many.

Having made himself a cup of tea and a slice of toast, he went back to his bedroom to find his clothes in the wardrobe. Even his riding breeches were in there. He'd not need them, however, so he opted for a pair of jeans. He hadn’t worn any in a long time, and he felt a lot more like his old self in them. He would need that when he faced his father later.

There was a knock on his door, and he went to answer it, taking his mug of tea with him. It was Mrs Coulter.

“Good morning, dear,” she said, entering the suite as he stepped aside for her. “Have you got everything you need? I hope you slept well. You certainly do look better this morning.”

“Aye, thanks,” he managed to say.

“It’s so good to have you back.”

He smiled. “I could tell.” His look fell on the boxes; she was assuming that he was going to stay for a while. He wasn’t sure he liked that and told himself not to feel pressured into anything he wasn’t ready for. But he couldn’t be angry with her; he’d been less than clear when he’d called his father to ask if he could stay at Brochwinnie to recover.

“We thought having your own things around you might help,” she said.

“It’s a good idea,” he said, “thanks.”

“Your father is in the stables if you’re looking for him. One of the mares is foaling.”

“Ah.” He wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that much stud life yet, but he might as well join his father. It would be rude not to, and he might be in need of some help.

Mrs Coulter looked at the mug in his hand and the empty plate on the kitchen counter. “Is that all ye’ve had for breakfast?” she asked, frowning.

“I’m nae supposed to have a fry-up, Mrs Coulter,” he said. And for good measure he added, “Martin explicitly told me so.”

Mrs Coulter harrumphed. As much as she wanted to feed him, reason prevailed when it came to Martin’s recommendations. She held the family doctor in great esteem, so she rarely challenged him. “Ye’ll have to tell me later what you can’t have.”

“I will, thanks.”

When he stepped into the dim stables, childhood memories came rushing back to him as the smells of hay, manure and horses filled his nose. He’d often hidden in the dark and warm stables when the fighting between his parents became unbearable. Sometimes he’d even slept in Teddy’s box stall, just to remind his parents that he existed. They always found him quickly, however, and his one attempt at running away had landed him in a boarding school. 

A group of people surrounded a box stall. He only recognised three of them: his father, Moray and the vet. The latter was the first to spot him; the others were cooing over the foal which was on the receiving end of a tongue bath from its mother. Its legs were spindly and still very unsteady, but Alec knew that appearances were deceptive.

“Well, hello there,” Hal said, stepping away from the small crowd to shake his hand. “It’s good to have ye back.”

“Aye, thanks,” Alec said, grinning. He took Hal’s hand and shook it.

Thus prompted his father and Moray joined them, but only his friend hugged him briefly and clapped him on the shoulder.

When they stepped out into the sunlight, Moray couldn’t help saying, “Gee, Alec, you look like shit.”

“It’s good to see ye too,” Alec grumbled.

“The prodigal son returns.” His father looked at him closely. “Well, ye’re here now. Mrs Coulter’ll take good care of ye, aye?” With that and a half-arsed smile he stalked away.

“It’s nice to see some things havenae changed,” Alec said.

“Shall I show ye the rest?” Moray asked. “After a detour to the kitchen. I’m famished. Havenae had breakfast yet.”

Of course, Moray would have spent the better part of the night with the foaling mare. At times like this, despite the long waiting hours, you completely forgot about your own needs. Alec remembered that well. “I could do with a second cuppa,” he said smiling, and they walked back to the guesthouse.

Mrs Coulter wasn’t in, so they helped themselves to some tea. They sat outside in the sunshine, Moray wolfing down a bowl of cereal. “So, how bad is it?” he asked. “Iain won’t say anything.”

 _That’s because he can’t be bothered,_ Alec thought sadly. “I’m on sick leave. Turns out I don’t need a pacemaker after all, but I’m on medication for the moment.”

“Bugger.”

“No, actually, it’s… it’s what I need. Time off, to think,” he said.

“Aye. Read the article about the Sandbrook case. What brought that on?” Moray asked.

Alec stretched out his legs. Being able to do that still felt strange after the limited space he’d had on the trains yesterday. “I was ready to… go, ye see? And I wanted… I wanted people to know that… mistakes had been made, but it wasnae…” he sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He wished he had a pair of shades. The wall of the guesthouse was glaringly bright. The light was different here than down in Broadchurch. Brighter, despite the lack of reflection off the sea.

“Teresa has been very miserable these past eighteen months,” Moray said. “She spent quite some time at ours.”

“What?” Something inside Alec went very cold, but the fluttering sensation and the pain in his chest were, although not absent, not as overwhelming as he’d expected them to be. Still, he bent forwards with his elbows on his knees, just in case.

“Sorry, mate. Are ye all right?” Moray asked, rubbing his back between his shoulder blades. “I’m such an eejit.”

“I’m okay,” Alec managed to say. He did feel a bit light-headed. Moray’s touch was comforting, and he groaned a little, trying to keep his breath under control. “Teresa never said a thing,” he said, turning his head to be able to look at Moray. His friend looked very sheepish and concerned.

“That’s because she’s got some sense in her, unlike her godfather,” Moray said. “I’m sorry, Alec. I’d not meant to tell you quite yet. But don’t worry about it, aye? Teresa’s my godchild, and she’s a blessing to have in the house. I was glad she had ours to come to.”

“I’m not sure what that says about Em’s parenting,” he muttered. “Or mine, for that matter.”

“It means she knows she has a place to go to, rather than run away. She’s a sensible lass, Alec. You should be proud of her.”

“I am. Thanks for looking after her.”

“It was a pleasure.”

Alec stared at the tips of his boots. They were still gleaming, unlike Moray’s, which bore witness to the events of the night.

While he was glad for Moray and Han to be there for Teresa, he felt a wave of guilt and anger wash over him. It was his, and Em’s, fault that she'd had such hard times. His greatest hope, when he’d first held her, was that he and Em would be able to give her a more loving home than he’d had. Obviously, they’d failed miserably, and he wondered why Teresa had stayed with Moray and Han.

The idea that Teresa still had Em after he’d left had been a source of relative comfort to him, and he’d never have thought how wrong that had been. What puzzled him even more was Teresa’s continued silence despite the rows she’d apparently had with Em.

He straightened and noticed only then that Moray had gone to refill their mugs. He was standing next to him, offering the steaming comfort of tea.

“Cheers,” Alec sighed, taking the mug gingerly.

“Ye’ll have a lot of talking to do, eh?” Moray said, sitting down beside him. “Why don’t ye join us for dinner tonight? Han can’t wait to see you.”


	5. Five

Five

Holly stepped away from her worktable, rubbing her tired eyes and glancing at the sky through the glass roof of the conservatory. Very dark clouds rolled in quickly, as they often did at the seaside, accompanied by a yellowish tinge that didn’t bode well.

Holly sighed. That would be the storm the weatherman had warned of earlier, and she decided to get the planters of kitchen herbs into the conservatory. Lack of attention and knowledge had led to the demise of several batches of herbs before, and she wasn’t going to risk it this time. She planned to grow her own herbs from scratch the next year, when she didn’t need to move house. 

Hopefully.

Mr Halloran had made it quite clear that she might be asked to find another place on short notice, but, as he’d made a point of stressing, “Not without our assistance”, because the owner might suddenly decide to return. After two decades of near-neglect, Mr Halloran had assured her, that was highly unlikely. The rent was ridiculously low for such a beautiful Grade II Listed Building in the area, but all they asked in return was that she make the place look inhabited. Mr Halloran had promised that a gardener would come in to cut the primal forest back to something more presentable, but so far no one had shown up. Holly had been wondering whether to tackle the task herself, but she had no experience with gardens whatsoever. It was moments like this when she thought she should have helped her mother in her garden more.

The ground-floor flat was beautiful, and perfect for her needs. At first, she’d been reluctant to even look at the place because she’d read that the hallway was communal and cut the flat in half, making it impossible to get from the bedroom to the kitchen or bathroom without potentially running into an upstairs neighbour. The conservatory had clinched the deal. She was glad that she’d given the place a chance after all.

As she pulled the conservatory door closed behind her, the first fat raindrops exploded on the glass roof. In the shifting light, Karen’s portrait seemed almost alive. Holly hadn’t drawn any portraits in a long time, and she’d been afraid she'd lost her touch with that particular art, but it turned out that she hadn’t. If anything, taking a break from portraiture had made her better. In a short time span she had drawn Karen in a variety of poses. Looking at the drawings now, where they perched on the narrow windowsills where the white-washed brick wall gave way to the glass, she was trying to decide which of the drawings to send to Karen’s parents.

She pushed away the thought of drawing Alec too.

Drawing Karen had helped her say goodbye to her. Maybe she’d be able to say goodbye to the gruff detective inspector in the same manner, but so far she hadn’t dared dwell on him too much. It was still too painful.

Never before had she made such a fool of herself as when she’d told him that she loved him. She couldn’t stop wondering what had gotten into her that morning on the beach. 

The distress he felt from the combination of his latest case and the circumstances surrounding his divorce must be made worse by her history with a female lover, an underage one to boot. If she were him she’d give herself as wide a berth as possible too.

Lightning lit up the semi-darkness and Holly decided which portrait of Karen to send to her parents. Stepping forward, a thunderclap tore through the patter of rain on the roof, startling her into tightening her grip around the sheet of paper.

She cursed mildly, but luckily the paper wasn’t creased. Still, she smoothed her fingers over the creamy surface, careful not to smudge the graphite.

Another bang startled her, but this time it wasn’t thunder. Someone, she realised after a few beats, was at her door. Dropping the sheet, she hurried through the kitchen and into the hall to see who it was. The canopy over the front door was very small and couldn’t have been providing much protection from wind and rain.

She tore the door open and stepped aside to allow Ellie in. She was soaked to the bone.

“How long have you been out there?” Holly asked, shocked. She’d been lost in thought, and the storm had done its bit to cut her off from the outside world.

“A couple of minutes,” Ellie said, running her fingers through her wet curls.

“Here, let me get you a towel,” Holly said. “And take off your soaking anorak.” It was a cheerful orange, completely different from the sombre greys and blacks Ellie usually wore.

While Ellie dried herself off, Holly went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She also turned on the lights; it was dark enough to be dusk, but it was still early afternoon.

When Ellie joined her, draping the wet towel over the back of a chair, Holly said, “I’m sorry, I was in the conservatory. It’s through there.” She pointed at the door next to the range.

“Comfy,” Ellie said, sitting. “And a bit big for just yourself.”

“Ah, no, I’ve only got the ground floor. Upstairs is empty.”

“That’s unusual for these parts,” Ellie said.

“Mr Halloran, the manager, was glad to have rented this flat. The upstairs needs a bit of work. Apparently, he’s the sort of landlord who makes sure that everything is in perfect order,” Holly said, pouring hot water into the mugs she’d gotten from the cupboard.

“I’d take it,” Ellie said, admiring the beautiful cornice and the mock-gothic window arches.

Holly laughed. “You’ll have to talk to him.”

“What about you? Don’t you want to stay here?” Ellie gratefully took the mug from her and wrapped her red fingers around the hot ceramic.

Holly sat down facing her, brushing back a stray lock of hair. “I’m not sure.”

“The kids at South Wessex like you a lot,” she said, “as do I, by the way, and I was hoping you’d be my friend.”

A warm wave of pleasure washed over Holly. She hadn’t expected to hear that. So far, she’d made few friends in Broadchurch, mostly because she preferred it that way. She’d come here to start afresh with Karen, but instead she’d lost her and found Alec and now she had lost him too. “I… I’d love that,” she found herself saying. “But I’m really not, well, it wouldn’t be fair, and…”

Ellie frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be fair?”

“Well, I… I came here for a reason, and now that I don’t have it any more… I feel sort of adrift.”

“I take it that reason was not a certain grumpy DI?” Ellie asked. She made her smile with her description.

“No.”

Ellie sighed, taking a sip. “He told me. I’m… I shouldn’t probably be telling you this. But I can see how miserable the two of you are, and it hurts, you know? Because it’s such a waste.”

“A waste?” Holly guffawed.

“He loves you, you silly thing,” Ellie said. “And you love him.”

“Did he tell you that?” Holly asked, her voice shaky all of a sudden.

“Yeah, he did. In the confidence of the Former Detectives Club,” she explained with a sad smile.

“What’s that?”

“It’s just a silly joke. He was medicalled out, and I’m on leave. For now.”

“Is he all right?”

“He went back to Scotland to rest and recover,” Ellie said, “but I couldn’t tell you if he’s all right. He sent you a postcard, though.” She retrieved it from her handbag. It was in a sealed envelope that carried her name, written in a surprisingly calligraphic handwriting. Holly accepted it numbly.

“Is this… his handwriting?”

Ellie pursed her lips, nodding. “He sent it to the station, making me his errand girl.”

“I’m sorry,” Holly said, turning the envelope. There was nothing else on it, so she flipped it over again and carefully placed it on the table in front of her. She could feel the postcard inside; Alec must have put it into the sleeve for discretion. 

“Thanks would be more traditional, I believe,” Ellie said. Holly smiled again. “Just tell him to…”

“Did he leave a return address?” Holly asked.

“What?” Ellie blinked. “You know, I couldn’t say.”

She leaned back in her chair. That was typical. “I have his mobile number. But… I’m not sure I can bring myself to ring him.”

“He hurt you, didn’t he? When he just up and left.”

Holly nodded.

“You know, one day I’d like to… if that’s okay. He told me about Karen and you.”

Holly blanched. The bastard. How could he betray her confidence so? “What did he tell you?” she asked, her voice pressed.

“Just that you had a special arrangement, and that before you met him you’d been with a woman,” Ellie said.

“Nothing… else?”

“There’s more?”

Holly bit her lip and looked out of the window. The thunderstorm had moved on, but the torrential rain washed down her windows. If anything, it had gotten even worse since Ellie’s arrival.

She jumped a little as Ellie put her hand on her forearm. “I’m sorry, love. I want to be your friend and the first thing I do is open my gob.” She took a deep breath. “I just want you to know… Oh, I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I?”

Holly pressed her fist against her mouth, nodding.

“I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the steady patter of the raindrops against the window. Holly couldn’t believe what had just happened, and she didn’t know what to make of Ellie’s boldness. 

“I meant it when I offered to be friends,” Ellie said eventually. “But… best intentions and all that.”

“Yeah,” Holly managed to say.

“I’d better… do you mind if I wait for the taxi indoors?”

Holly shook her head.

They finished their tea in tense silence as they waited for the cab. Holly wanted her to be gone at once, but she didn’t have it in her to kick her out in this kind of weather. Eventually, however, Ellie stood, put her mug into the sink and went into the porch to put on her sodden anorak. “I’ll just wait outside. The rain seems to have let up a little. Cab should be here now any minute, anyway.”

Holly nodded, following her into the hall.

“Please call me if… something comes up, yeah?”

Holly nodded out of courtesy. She was so numbed by the sense of betrayal that she didn’t know whether she wanted to crawl into a dark hole in the ground or to howl and cry in fury. Consequently, she didn’t have anything to say either. But she knew that the last thing she’d do was call Ellie.

After she had left, Holly went into the bathroom to draw herself a bath. The encounter left her frozen to the core and feeling dirty. She poured herself a glass of wine and picked up her battered copy of _Message in a Bottle_ , a chick-lit novel that never failed as a pick-me-up. It was her one guilty pleasure when it came to books, but it always did the job, no matter how distracted she was.

The envelope with her name on it lay on the kitchen table, ignored and splattered with wine and other foods and drinks, for a couple of days before she had it in herself to exile it to a drawer in the hall bureau. It didn’t matter what Ellie had told her about his feelings for her. If he didn’t have the courage to tell her in person, then it would be better to just forget about him.

The day after she had put away the envelope, Holly found another in the wire basket beneath the letter slit in the door. It too, bore her name in the beautiful handwriting, but that was all. The envelope was stiff with a postcard, just like the first one, and, just like the first one, she dropped it into the exile drawer.

 _You’ve got mail,_ Ellie’s text read when it dropped into the inbox of her mobile a few minutes later. _Hope you’re all right._

Holly chose to ignore the message just like Alec’s postcards. Was he really trying to win her back with a few postcards, after betraying her confidence to Ellie? When she'd sent him the cards from Italy that was for completely different reasons. On top of it all he used his former sergeant as an errand girl.

The next three postcards were delivered to her pigeon hole in the staff room at South Wessex Secondary School. There were a few raised eyebrows, and she wasn’t sure what was worse: the Oaf noticing the postcard, or Paul. The latter, at least, had the decency to smile sheepishly at her.

“It’s not the typical time for holidays, is it?” the Oaf said the morning she collected her fourth card. “Or maybe it is,” he said, glancing out the window. It was ghastly. 

“Yeah,” Holly replied absentmindedly.

“Do you have any plans for half-term?”

She looked at him, shoving the postcard into the pocket of her hand-knitted cardigan, the green one with the cable pattern that Karen had loved so much. His expression was friendly, but she couldn’t detect any of his teasing in it. She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Me neither. We could go for a drink, maybe, or a coffee, if you prefer that. And a film?” he asked.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Holly asked dumbly.

“No! Not a date,” he stammered, “just making friends. You look like you need one? Maude, Robin and I are in a sort of a cinema club. We thought you might be a nice addition. If you could be bothered.”

“What?” Clearly, his tongue had run away with him.

He blanched. “That came out wrong. Look, love, no offence, but you seem a bit… withdrawn, and we thought it’d be nice to draw you out of that shell. If you want.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, well,” he checked his watch. “I have to go.”

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, yes. I’d like that.”

His expression brightened into the mischievousness she knew him for. “Great. Tell you what, pop your mobile number into my pigeon hole so we can get in touch, yeah? I’ll do the same. Later. Gotta dash.”

Holly tried to convince herself that they hadn’t had a betting pool going. It was paranoid, and a horrible idea that was more like the sort of cruelty the teenagers at the school might visit on one another than what her mature colleagues would do. Sighing, she made herself a cup of tea and sat in one of the lounge chairs to review her lesson plans. There was no need for her to rush out; she had a double free period.

Holly hated herself for what she allowed Alec and Ellie do to her. The Oaf — she should really start referring to him by his real name, Nathan — had been nervous to ask her because she was so “withdrawn”. _Aloof,_ or _cold,_ were better words to describe her, Holly thought. If he’d been taking the piss he’d not have been so nervous. Besides, the group he’d referred to were slightly eccentric. She’d never have counted him among them. No, they seemed decent people and she decided to make the effort to get to know them and be more open. Despite — or rather because of — the pain she’d gone through in the past months, including her latest disappointment over Ellie.

She retrieved the postcard from her pocket, but instead of dropping it into the bin she slid it into the small compartment in her book bag, where the other three cards were hidden.

At the end of the day, she found Nathan’s phone number in her pigeon hole, scribbled hers on a sheet for him before she left, and stepped into the cold, darkening late afternoon. Spending time over drinks and a film with the other three would be nice, she decided. She slipped Nathan’s note in with the postcards so she wouldn’t lose it.

Taking a deep breath, she set off for home, which was a fifteen-minute walk from the school. She still hadn’t bothered to get a car, seeing as everything she needed was within reasonable walking distance from her flat. 

“Holly!”

Thinking it might be a colleague, Holly turned around to see who’d called her name to find Ellie standing by the gates, holding a paper cup in each hand. “Holly!”

Holly thought for a moment whether to ignore her or just move on when she saw a boy approach Ellie. That must be Ellie’s son.

“Holly, please,” Ellie called, sending the boy to one of the cars parked in the road, while coming towards her.

Holly strengthened the grip around her bag.

“I’m sorry for what I said, but you must believe me when I tell you that I wanted to help. Is it really so bad that Alec told me about your previous relationship? I thought that’s what people needed to talk about. Sometimes.”

“You should talk to someone else about your husband,” Holly said. She was appalled by her cruel words, but there was no taking them back now, although Ellie didn’t deserve them.

Ellie stared at her. “She hurt you.” She held out the cup for her, but Holly didn’t take it.

 _Of course she hurt me, you cow. She fucking_ died _on me, is what she did!_ “I don’t want to discuss her with you.”

“Fair enough,” Ellie said.

Holly hadn’t noticed Paul approaching. “Is everything all right?”

Ellie recovered quickly. “Yes, thanks. Coffee?” She held out the cup she’d offered Holly a moment before.

Paul looked from Ellie to Holly but when Holly only raised her chin he took the cup. “Thanks.”

“Well, Tom’s waiting. See you round,” Ellie said, turning to leave.

“What was that about?” Paul asked.

“I don’t know,” Holly said, shrugging.

“This is yours, isn’t it?” He held out the cup for her.

“Nah, you keep it. I’ll get myself another at the corner shop.”

“Fancy a glass of something at the Trader’s after gym tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Holly said. It would do her good to get out more. “See you there.”


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Chibnall fictionalised the setting I followed in his footsteps and used Margate's old name, Meregate.

Six

The postcards collected in the drawer in the hall bureau. Alec’s persistence wasn’t really surprising; he had risked his own life finding Danny’s killer. Perhaps not surprising, but it was annoying. She’d ended things between them, but apparently, he was equally dogged in his private life.

Despite everything, Holly couldn’t bring herself to do anything but keep the postcards in that particular drawer. Throwing them away seemed just as difficult as it would be to read them. The former seemed cruel because he was still thinking of her, which was flattering, and the latter wouldn't help her forget him. They were postcards; they didn’t carry a return address, nor did the sealed envelopes in which the very first ones had arrived. He didn’t want her to write back. Or, more likely, he didn’t _expect_ her to write back.

She let out a growl of frustration and emptied the pocket in her book bag into the drawer. There was a hefty pile of, from what she could tell, beautiful cards. They certainly weren’t the usual tourist fare of cheap paper and carelessly chosen pictures with “Greetings from beautiful Glasgow” scrawled across them. He knew what appealed to her, which in itself both charmed and infuriated her. Holly squeezed her eyes shut and slammed the drawer shut, rattling the small piece of furniture.

The fact that he didn’t go to the trouble to find out her home address was puzzling, however. 

But then again, he’d also stopped texting her. 

Frowning, Holly went to the table in the hall onto which she'd dropped her keys and bag to get her phone. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t checked it for text messages in a long time. Maybe he hadn’t stopped contacting her, maybe she’d just overlooked them.

There were no text messages from him, but there was one from her mum. Holly sighed, sitting heavily on the bottom step. Why was she so disappointed by the absence of messages from Alec when she was trying so hard to forget him? But forcing yourself to fall out of love with someone was hard; she’d done it before, but she didn’t remember it being so painful to get over someone. Perhaps it was so difficult because Alec wouldn’t let her go. Even though she wasn't reading his messages, they had the desired effect. They kept him fresh in her memory. But just as she couldn't throw away his cards she couldn’t bring herself to text him to tell him — beg him — to stop.

Her hand was shaking when she speed-dialled her mum.

“Yes?” Her mother sounded wary. Apparently she hadn’t checked the caller ID before accepting the call.

“Hello, Mum.”

“Holly, sweetheart. Are you all right?” 

The warmth and caring in her voice touched her more than she would have thought, and the brittle shell she’d withdrawn into crumbled away under the simple greeting. Cupping her forehead with her free hand, Holly took a deep breath.

“I finally met someone,” she said, her voice breaking.

There was a brief silence before her mum asked, “Oh, sweetheart.” She knew without her telling her that this was another star-crossed relationship. “What happened?”

Holly felt exhausted all of a sudden. “It’s a long story,” she sniffled. “Can you come?”

“Of course,” her Mum said. “Of course I’ll come, sweet. When do you want me to come?”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. She wiped at them. “As soon as possible?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Holly felt bad almost immediately, having pushed away her Mum over Karen and only talking to her on the phone for months. And now she was asking her to come and she was willing to drop everything to do just that. Was that what being a parent was like? Being there for your child, no matter what, even when said child was grown? “Don’t… go to any great trouble, please. Mum? Only come if you can. You… you have your own life and I… I don’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be silly, Holly. Of course I’ll come. Just let me talk to Tim and I’ll see what I can do,” her Mum said.

Holly nodded, still wiping tears off her face.

“Holly?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“I’ll talk to you when I know more, yes? I’ll take the car rather than the train. Oh, and I got myself a SatNav, imagine that.”

Holly laughed. “Gives you a chance to try it out.”

Her mother’s voice brightened a little. “Yes. Listen, sweetheart. Is there anything I should know now? About this someone?”

“It’s a man, Mum. And I’m not pregnant.” At least she hadn’t been the last time she’d checked. _What are you thinking?_ she scolded herself. She _wasn’t_ pregnant. She’d had her period since she’d been with him last. 

“And he isn’t… I mean… he doesn’t hurt you?” Her mother’s voice was fearful.

“No. In fact, he’s… he wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s not around any more.”

Her question cam e haltingly. “You broke up?”

“I… I told him I love him. But he… he knows about Karen, and… it’s complicated.” She remembered her mother’s words. _At your age love shouldn’t be complicated_.

“I’ll come as soon as I can,” her mum said. “I love you, sweet.”

Holly squeezed her eyes shut. Her mum’s words broke her heart. “I love you too, Mum.”

She wasn’t sure if her mother heard her smothered sob over the phone before the stubborn red button finally disconnected the call. Holly wanted her mum’s support, but she didn’t want her to be overly worried on her behalf.

She allowed the worst of the tears to wash through her, knowing that she’d feel better if she did. This was the first time, really, since that morning on the beach that she cried over the wreck that her relationship with Alec had become. Maybe they would help her move on. Maybe they would finally make the cards from the bureau drawer disappear into the recycling bin.

The phone vibrated and rung in her hands and she nearly dropped it. This time, she checked the caller ID. It was her mother. That was fast.

How long had she been sitting here anyway?

“Garett is taking over from me. He owes me,” her mum explained. “I’ll set off in the morning. Or would you rather I—?”

“No, mum. I don’t want you driving in the middle of the night. On roads you’re not familiar with,” Holly hurried to say.

There was a sigh at the other end. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I am now. I… I think I’ll call some friends and get your room ready. Probably not in that order. Definitely not in that order,” she amended, chuckling.

“Friends?” her mother, protective as ever, asked. It had taken Holly a while to realise that her mum wasn’t a control freak. Her questions were a sign of genuine interest. Tell that to a teenager.

“Fellow teachers. They asked me to join them for films and drinks,” Holly said. “They’re nice people. You can meet them if you want.”

“I’d love that. The young man in question… he’s not one of them?”

Holly laughed. “No. No, he isn’t.” _He isn’t so young any more,_ she wanted to add.

“Good. That makes things a lot easier. I’ll call you when I’m in the area. Would that be all right?”

“Perfectly. Thanks, Mum.”

There was a pause filled with everything that hadn’t been said since their last meeting in the café in Meregate.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you, sweetheart.”

When her mother arrived around lunchtime the next day, Holly had spread the postcards on the kitchen table in chronological order, or at least in an approximation of it. Some of the dates on the cards were illegible, so she did her best to arrange them. But she had not read them. She couldn’t tell why she had sorted them. Alcohol was out of the question. When Nathan had dropped her off after their night out, she’d only had one cider.

“Sweetheart,” her mum said, “I’m a bit peckish.”

Holly coloured. “Of course. We should get something to eat. Do you mind going to the harbour? There’s a lovely café that always has a good daily special. Unless, of course, you want something more substantial.” Knowing her mother, she’d set off on a cup of coffee and a banana.

“Is there anything within walking distance? I don’t want to see the inside of a car again today,” she said.

They went to The Green Boar, which was just down the road. It was a nice place, despite being a franchise. The chain didn’t require that all of the restaurants look the same; the menu took care of that. Her mother had Cumberland sausage and mash, while she settled for the quiche lorraine and salad. The meals were good and so generous that neither of them was able to finish.

Her mother drained the rest of her white wine. “I’m feeling better now.”

“We could walk to the harbour if you want. The café I mentioned has the best coffee in the area.”

Her mother agreed and they set off. It was a cool, blustery day with crisp skies, perfect for walking.

“His name’s Alec,” Holly began eventually. “I think he’s in his early forties.”

“Hang on, child. Tell me about the girl first. You never even told me her name.”

“It’s Karen,” she replied. “She died.”

Her mother’s expression was stricken when she said, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Her words also contained an invitation to tell her about Karen; Holly remembered their last meeting in the café, when her mum had been appalled by the idea of her dating a student. Holly knew now that the issue wasn’t about her dating a woman; it was about her dating a student, a subordinate of hers. Holly now understood her mum's concern back then, back when she’d thought that Karen was the love of her life. She wasn’t, of course. She knew that now. Karen had been wonderful and being with her had been amazing, but Holly realised now that despite everything Karen wouldn’t have been able to fill the hole in her heart. 

“I’m glad I was there for her, in the end,” Holly said, ending her narrative about Karen. In a way she felt bad that her mum was the last to learn, that she’d confided in Alec first. Telling him had been a mistake, especially in the wake of the Danny Latimer case. In retrospect, it was inevitable that he would reject her. For most men had a hard enough time seeing that their companion might be desired by other men, but the idea that she might be attracted to other women was often just too much for them.

But that alone wasn’t the problem with Alec.

He’d just worked a case in which an adult had taken advantage of a vulnerable child. Holly could understand that.

But.

Danny had been eleven years old.

Holly had been five years his senior.

She’d known what adult relationships were like; she was mature beyond her years.

“And that bloke? David?” her mum prompted.

Holly nodded.

“He… he didn’t hurt you, did he?” Her mother’s eyes filled with fear.

“No,” Holly said, reaching across the table. “No, he didn’t, Mum. He… took me for granted. Until I met Karen. We were both looking for a meaningful relationship. I’m just not sure any more if we were right for each other.”

Her mother swirled her cup to make the foamed milk mix with the last dregs of coffee of her cappuccino. They decided to leave so her mum could get some rest. “I think you were right for each other at that particular point in your lives. I’m really sorry you lost Karen.” Her mum reached for her hand across the table and gave it a tight squeeze. “So tell me, what’s the problem with Alec?”

Trust her mum to remember his name, even after hearing it only once. “He’s older than me, by ten years at least, I’d say,” Holly began, to get the worst news out of the way.

Her mother inclined her head for her to go on.

“He’s also the worst cop in Britain,” she said. “You’ve seen the coverage of Danny Latimer’s murder?”

Her mother nodded.

“It’s Alec Hardy, the DI in charge of Danny’s case. We met on the beach by the pier. And eventually, we had this arrangement. Company and sex,” she said, waiting for her mum’s reaction to her blunt words. “We’d meet and talk about books and things and have sex. It wasn’t a romantic relationship. More of an agreement. At first we didn’t even know each other's names.”

Her mother stared at her for a few beats. “And that worked?”

Holly nodded. “Until I started to have feelings for him. I sent him postcards from Italy, from the holiday I was supposed to be on with Karen. And now he’s turned tables and he’s the one sending me a postcard a day.” 

“Did you _tell_ him you love him?”

“Yeah. Only… he didn’t take it too well. Because of Danny.”

Her mother sighed and squeezed her hand again.

“I’m not a pedophile, Mum.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

“Karen knew what she was doing. I was… reluctant.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

When they reached her home, Holly showed her mum the postcards spread on the kitchen table. Most of them were beautiful shots of Scottish scenery, but there were also some art postcards from museums, prints of vintage tourism posters and images from early 20th century Scotland.

Her mother looked at them bending over the table, and she picked up the odd one but never read the message. “Well, what do the postcards say?”

Holly, biting her lip, looked away. “I haven’t read them.” Her hand hovered above the postcards, as if protecting them, and she told her about the chance that another card had been added to her pigeon hole at school that morning.

“Oh, sweetheart,” her mum said. Her mother gave her a meaningful look. _You really ought to read them, if you love him, if you miss him so badly._

Holly crumpled. “I’m terrible, aren’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Her phone rang. It was Ashok from Quills and Quartos, the bookshop. “Hello, Holly,” he said.

“Hi.” She frowned. She hadn’t ordered anything.

“I’ve got a book for you.”

She told him she hadn’t ordered anything.

“It was ordered on your behalf. It’s paid for, so you might as well collect it unless you want me to donate it. To myself, possibly. It’s a lovely book,” Ashok said.

“I’ll come and get it. Might I ask who my benefactor is?”

“Holly. Do you really have to ask?” he tutted.

_Alec._

“Thanks.” She ended the call and reported the other half of the conversation to her mother. 

“Oh Holly.”

“I am being deaf, blind and mute, aren’t I?” Holly sighed.

Her mother nodded. “A man whose intentions are not honourable doesn’t send you books and postcards, love. He makes indecent proposals via MyFace.”

“Do you mind if I go and pick it up now?” Holly asked. She hated the idea of the book waiting there, but she also hated her eagerness to pick it up.

“Don't worry about me, sweet.”

Holly set her up in the lounge. The sofa bed was quite comfy, however, and her Mum loved the place, despite its state of mild neglect.

The book, when she collected it from the till at the bookshop, was wrapped in buff-coloured paper, and the tag attached to the string read _A hole new world for you._ It was written in Ashok's hand, probably taken down as Alec dictated them over the phone. The words stirred her. It wasn't the excitement of delving into the new world of a book alone. There was something more, but she couldn't tell what that was. 

When Holly returned, mulling the words over, her mother roused her from her thoughts with a question of her own. “I wonder why the owner doesn’t rent out the rest of the house too. It must be worth a fortune.”

“Gift horse, mum.” She tightened her grip around the book. It was a normal-sized paperback volume, of that she was sure. _A hole new world for you._

“Yes,” she sighed, “I suppose it is.”

Holly quickly gathered up Alec’s postcards, as her mother watched with an indulging smile. Holly wanted to read the cards in privacy, and she wanted to unwrap the book in privacy as well. She would likely tell, and show, her mum later after she’d had a chance to absorb them. She wanted the discovery, the first moment of contact, to herself. But that would have to wait until later tonight, or even tomorrow, or the day after that. 

Nathan, Maude and Robin picked them up later that afternoon for some pre-movie plant-buying for Maude’s garden, and sandwiches at the garden centre's lovely café. Holly enjoyed the smell of damp soil and greenery as they sat in the huge conservatory with their light dinners. Holly bit into her BLT with a smile. Her mother seemed to really like her new friends, Nathan the Oaf in particular. 

Things, she thought, were looking up. Life in Broadchurch wasn’t so bad.

Until they passed the house of a colleague on their way to the cinema. The house was ablaze, a crowd of onlookers watching the fire brigade do their job from a safe distance. But it was too late already. The roof of Mrs Rudd’s house had already caught fire. The house, they feared, was lost. 

“What’s wrong, Holly? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Maude asked. She was the youngest History teacher Holly had ever met — but then again, people had said that about her being an English teacher. Little did they know that she was an Art teacher first and an English teacher second. She was very lucky to be able to teach both subjects at South Wessex. Which was one reason why she’d rather not leave the town any time soon. It was a good school and Broadchurch was a good place to live.

“I’m scared of fire. And poor Mrs Rudd. All those memories that are gone in an instant.”

The Cinema club were quiet for a while.

“Will she be all right, though?” her mum asked.

“Yeah… she’s got lots of friends who’ll take her in. Luckily, she’s archived all her teaching materials electronically,” Nathan said.

“But her library,” Robin said.

“Oh,” Nathan said. “That.”

“Oh dear,” Robin said.

“Yes,” Mrs Carlisle agreed. “That poor love.”


	7. Seven

Seven

Holly hissed in triumph when she found the display book in the box she used to store her unused folders, binders and other stationery. The transparent pockets were just the right size for Alec’s postcards, and there was enough room for all of them if she put them in back-to-back. That had the added benefit of hiding his messages as she leafed through the book. She made a mental note to pick up another book the next time she went to the stationer’s. 

The book Alec had sent her was still wrapped in the buff-coloured paper, his white words standing out against the red of the tag. She loved the mystery of his gift, but more than that she was afraid of what was going to happen when she removed the wrapping. It was the same thing she feared was going to happen when she read the postcards. It would make her closer to Alec and she would find it more difficult to let him go.

But she was kidding herself.

Her mother knew it, and so did Ashok.

The Cinema Club were still oblivious to her turmoil. She had decided not to tell them anything that personal until she knew them better. Until she knew herself better.

The knock on her door startled her so much she dropped the display book.

“Holly, love, it’s time you left for school,” her mum said, and Holly felt like a teenager again. She laughed.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

She stood and joined her mum in the hall. She, too, was smiling.

“Who would have thought that I’d still have to remind you to go to school ten years later,” she said.

“I love going to school. I just got carried away by something.”

Her mum stopped smiling and nodded knowingly, but she didn’t press her for more information. Holly was grateful and she leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well on the sofa?” she asked.

“I did, thanks.”

“Walk me to school? We could pick up a coffee on the way.”

“You still don’t like having breakfast, do you,” her mum said in resigned acceptance.

Holly shook her head. “There’s a bowl of fruit in the staff room and I usually pick up an apple or a banana during break. If that’s any consolation.”

“It’s a bit rich coming from me, isn’t it,” her mum said. She rarely had any breakfast herself.

Holly collected her book bag and the binder and they left. The morning was crisp, the breeze carried in the salty air from the sea, but still Holly thought she could smell smoke. Maybe it was just an olfactory hallucination.

Her mum stayed behind at the café, taking her time to have a proper cup and to read the paper while Holly grabbed a coffee to go and went on to school.

“It’s arson,” Robin said as she joined her at the bank of pigeon holes to collect the papers that had accumulated there since the day before. The postcard, Holly knew, would only arrive with the post later that morning. She couldn’t wait to pull it out of the small compartment.

“What?” Holly asked.

“Arson. The fire wasn’t an accident,” Robin explained.

Holly stared at her. “Who would do such a thing?”

Robin pursed her lips. “Many possibilities.”

“But Mrs Rudd’s! Why her? She wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“It might not be personal.”

“How do you know anyway?” Holly asked.

“My brother’s a fire investigator. I called him early this morning,” Robin replied.

“Oh. What about the house?”

“Apparently, Mrs Rudd is lucky. She had an annexe added a couple of years ago, for guests, and that's what burnt down last night. Her house is all right,” Robin explained. “And so are most of her books.”

Holly frowned. “Sounds like an incredibly stupid arsonist. Or a warning shot.”

Robin stared at her. “You’re a regular little Sherlock, aren’t you?”

Holly shrugged. The bell called them to their classrooms.

When she returned to the staff room for her banana and the postcard at the beginning of the break, Esther was there distributing the teachers’ post to their pigeon holes. Holly dropped her bag and picked up a banana, waiting for Esther to finish her chore.

To her surprise Esther approached her to give her the postcard personally. “Holly. Someone likes you a lot. Which is sweet. But. Would you mind telling him to send the cards to your place rather than here? I’m happy to pass on your professional mail, but I’m not your personal messenger girl.”

Holly flushed, taking the card. “I’m sorry, Esther. It’s the only address he has for me and I don’t know where he lives. I can’t contact him.”

Esther snorted. “What, in the age of MyFace and mobile phones the only way you communicate is via postcards? And you never reply?”

Holly stood a little bit straighter and raised her chin.

“You artsy types really are nutters. Should have known when you hooked up with _them,_ ” Esther said, shaking her head. She had spotted the Cinema Club in their corner of the staff room, where they were laughing about something. Nathan caught Esther’s eye and winked at her. It was an open secret that Esther had a soft spot for him but she was unaware that he played for the other team.

“Would it make a difference if I paid you for your services in coffee or cake?” Holly offered. _Kill her with kindness. Be better than her._

“One coffee on Friday morning, two sugars, black. From the place up the road,” Esther said. Her expression was cold. Of course she knew which shop had the best coffee in town. It was the same place where Holly’s mum was having her breakfast.

“Done.” 

She joined the Cinema Club after she had stowed her mail in her bag.

“You all right, love?” Nathan asked.

“Yeah. I had to bribe Esther so she'll keep delivering my mail.”

“I beg your pardon?” Maude asked.

“It’s okay, actually. It’s private mail.”

“But bribe her? Why don’t you just have your private mail delivered to your lovely place?” Maude asked. She and Esther were on the war path, even though they’d had a cease fire for a while now.

“It’s complicated.”

“You don’t do simple, do you?” Robin said, bumping shoulders with her.

“No,” Holly sighed, failing to sound as playful as she’d meant to.

“Oh dear,” Robin sighed, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really, not now, anyway. But thanks for the offer.”

-:-

_You would like it here. The light is gorgeous._

Holly stared at the words on the postcard Esther had placed in her hands. Alec really was thinking of her; he seemed to be looking at the world through her eyes. He was good at it; he had to be in his line of work. The picture to go with the message showed the ruin of a castle against the dramatic backdrop of mountains and an oncoming storm with the sun illuminating everything from behind the photographer. The green of the grass and trees and the blue of the loch in the foreground were surreally intense.

_I hate it when there’s no real storyline in a book. This one’s jumping back and forth without finesse and there’s no drama in the main characters’ relationship. It’s more like a footnote, added like an afterthought._

And in a very tiny script he had added the title and author’s name; Holly was glad for the warning. She’d meant to buy the book because everyone was so excited about it. The front of the card showed a vintage photo of a man sitting outside a café, reading his newspaper. Holly smiled.

_I’ve had the sketch of the cup of tea framed._

“Oh,” Holly gasped. This was by far the most personal, most touching message she had read so far. What was most amazing, however, was the doodle of a cuppa in a corner of the postcard. He had drawn that with the fountain pen he used, in a lovely dark green ink that shimmered ever so slightly when the light caught in it. The card was a painting by Jack Vettriano, a self-portrait of the artist sitting on his bed with his elbows on his knees. The artist was in his shirt sleeves and a waistcoat, and although his face was mostly hidden by shadows, he looked tired and old.

“Is that how you are?” she murmured.

She leaned back in her armchair, pulling her knees towards her chest and hugging them to herself. She didn’t want to flatter herself by thinking that he felt like this because of her. It wasn’t flattering at all; she had hurt him when she left him on the beach the morning he had found Danny’s murderer. Hurting him was inevitable, but she did it to protect both of them, maybe herself more than him. A copper didn’t fall in love with a criminal.

“Does a criminal fall in love with a copper, though?” she murmured.

Was there a word for it, something like Stockholm Syndrome? 

A soft knock on her door reminded her that her mother was getting tea ready, and once again she felt like a teenager. To her surprise she didn’t mind the feeling at all. Maybe she needed to allow herself to be treated like a child by her mother, to experience love and trust so she would be able to come out of this crisis as a more mature adult than she’d been.

Her mother opened the door and found her curled up in her armchair. “Holly, sweet? Are you all right?”

“I could go to prison for what I did.”

Her mum stared at her. It was obvious that she had never stopped to think about the potential legal repercussions of her daughter’s relationship with Karen. She’d only looked at the ethics of it. “That you could,” she said eventually, sitting on the armrest. Holly unfurled herself and leaned into her mum’s side, wrapping her arm around her middle, stopping the display book from falling with her free hand. “But you won’t, will you? Not unless Karen’s parents press charges. But what would be the point now?”

“They might claim I’ll do it again. I could be put on the national register and never be able to teach again.”

“That’s true, but I think they’re far too grateful that you loved their daughter to do that. You made the last months of her life beautiful, and you were there for her when things became difficult. You could have walked away, but you didn’t.”

“I’m not sure that makes it any better,” Holly murmured. “I’m not sure… I loved her, but I knew it was never going to last.”

“It did for Karen. As far as she was concerned she died being loved by someone other than her parents. And that’s a blessing.”

Holly took in a shuddering breath, wondering if she’d ever be as wise as her mum.

Her mum kissed the top of her head. “They’ve forgiven you. You need to forgive yourself.”

“I hurt Alec. Badly. And he keeps writing to me. All these lovely messages.” She held up the display book that had been trapped between her thighs and chest.

Her mother took the book and flipped through it. “Are they… love letters? If you don’t mind my asking?”

“They aren’t conventional love letters. He… he shares his thoughts with me, small observations. But… they are love letters in a way. He's telling me that he's still thinking about me.”

“That’s lovely.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while, which her mum used to return the book and hug her close.

“Tea’s ready, if you are.”

“Thanks, mum. It’s lovely to be looked after again.”

Her mum pursed her lips. She had been alone for so long herself that Holly wondered how she coped with not being looked after by someone. She decided that for the rest of her mum’s stay she’d return the favour. At the same time she realised that she would be looked after again if she allowed Alec to do it.

“Is there anyone looking after you?” she asked, letting go of her. Her mum stood.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “Yes, there is.”

Holly froze briefly. For years, her mum had been by herself, and then, in a matter of months, she had found someone. She was glad that her mother hadn’t had to deal with the ramifications of their argument all on her own.

“That’s lovely!” she cried. “You must tell me everything about him.”

“It’s Gareth. He got the job at The Blue Oyster.”

“What!?” Holly gasped in surprise. A year ago, her mother had applied for a job as sous-chef at one of Meregate’s best restaurants, only to lose the post to the enigmatic Welshman who’d gone travelling the world twenty years before after a brief affair with her.

She smiled an adorable sheepish smile that made her look so much younger. “Men are like wine, they say.”

“You have to tell me everything!” Holly said, shaking her head. She wasn’t sure if she liked the idea of her mum being back together with the man who had broken her heart. Holly had been a little girl when it happened and hadn’t really understood what was going on. Besides, it was hardly her place to criticise her mother for her relationship when her own love life was such a mess.

They went into the kitchen, where tea awaited them. Her mum had even set the table; the only thing she needed to do was find a bottle of wine to go with their meal and open it, since her mother didn’t dare touch her wine cellar.

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of the Indian spices which had gone into the curry her mum had made, and the warm, flowery scent of jasmine rice. The naan, when she pulled it out of the oven, added its own smell, and they sat down for a leisurely meal.

“I should have helped you more when you were cooking,” Holly said after a few bites. “I feel I have so many things to learn in the kitchen.”

“What you need is more practice, sweet. You have inherited my acute senses of taste and timing.”

Holly lowered her fork. “I suppose you’re right.” They clinked glasses and tasted the slightly sparkly white wine she had kept in the fridge. “I think we should have the Cinema Club over for dinner before you leave. What do you think?”

“I love that idea. They’re lovely. It’s good to know that you’re not alone here, Holly.”

Holly smiled although she had a feeling, from the way her mother inclined her head that it wasn’t going to happen. She tried to ignore it and said, “It’s good to know that you’re not all alone either. Now, tell me about Gareth. I only remember him vaguely.”

Her mum told her about Gareth’s sudden return and the mixed feelings it had evoked in her. “Gareth is the perfect gentleman now more than ever,” her mum said. “He was reluctant to ask me out again at first, but I suppose I did something that convinced him otherwise.”

“Why did he get the job? You deserve a position at The Blue Oyster, more than anyone. Your talent is wasted at a place like… hang on. Didn’t you say Gareth is covering for you?” Holly frowned, putting her fork down.

Her mum smiled gently, carefully scooping up some rice and curry. “He’s the sous, but the head had to go after his drug problem was discovered. They called me in again. I had no idea that they turned me down as sous because I was over-skilled,” she explained.

“That… that’s amazing! Congratulations, mum!” They clinked glasses again. “Are you sure it’s okay that you’re taking some time off? I mean… chef de cuisine is a demanding job, and,” she didn’t finish.

“Exactly. It is demanding. And since Gareth and I make a fantastic team Tim was ready to give me a few days off. Provided I get some work done. Like planning menus and the like. And visiting some of the more prestigious restaurants here,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I thought we might go to The Orchard tomorrow? I know it’s not quite what you had in mind, but I was hoping you’d come with me?”

“Mum,” Holly began. “It’s a bit expensive, and I… well, there are a few DIY projects I had in mind for this place, so…”

Her mum waved her objections away like a cloud of billowing steam. “Tim’s paying. Consider it culinary espionage. His words, not mine.”

Holly relaxed. “Okay. I’d love that.”

“So. What are you going to do about Alec?” her mum asked after a sip of wine.

Holly exhaled slowly. “I don’t know.”

“It seems to me that he doesn’t mind your relationship with Karen. Despite what his wife did to him and the Danny Latimer case,” her mum pointed out, voicing thoughts that so far Holly had been reluctant to allow herself. They made pushing him away so much harder.

“I suppose… I could get in touch with him. I have his mobile number. But, the thing is, and it might sound silly, I think it’ll take away the magic of what we have now. I love getting his postcards. I loved sending them to him when I was in Italy.”

“I see what you mean, sweet. Although I don’t understand why you love getting the cards when you don’t even read them.”

Holly finished her meal. She’d been afraid she would say that. She couldn’t quite explain it herself. “It holds a certain magic. I know that he thinks of me, and that’s nice. But… well, so far I’ve been afraid of what he’d say. Words weren’t necessary, you see?”

Her mum nodded thoughtfully, although she didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Is there really no way you could get in touch with him?”

“I have his mobile number. But texting seems so… impersonal. He’s left Broadchurch, so I can’t reach him at the station or at the hotel.”

“But surely he’s left a forwarding address at the station? There must be people with whom he keeps in touch?”

“I’m not so sure. He can be quite grumpy,” Holly said. “The only one he opened up to was his partner, DS Ellie Miller.”

“Well, why don’t you call her?”

Holly sighed. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms the last time we saw each other.”

“What happened?”

Holly remembered Ellie’s peace offering of coffee after school. She’d intended to help, but she’d inadvertently chosen bad timing, catching Holly at her most vulnerable moment when her self-loathing was still fresh. Holly ought to be furious with Alec because he had betrayed her confidence to Ellie, but he’d certainly only done so because he needed to make sense of what had happened.

“I made a mistake,” Holly sighed, slumping a little.

“Can you make it up to her?”

“I think so. She came to say sorry. For something I did wrong. I’m such a horrible person sometimes.”

“Now, don’t say that, sweet. You were… _are_ grieving, and you were scared. I’m sure she’ll understand when you explain it to her,” her mum said.


	8. Eight

Eight

Teresa came to Brochwinnie at the weekends, and when she told her grandfather that she wanted to stay at the guesthouse with her father, he wasn’t very pleased. But, being the adoring grandfather he was, he didn’t complain too much about it. Alec supposed that if he was the reason Teresa came to the stud on a more regular basis his father was ready to pay the price.

After a good three weeks at Brochwinnie they still hadn’t had a private chat. Part of Alec was glad. It meant he'd avoided his father's unerring knack for asking all the right questions, which were, of course, the difficult and uncomfortable ones. On the other hand, he wanted to talk to him to face all these difficult and uncomfortable questions eventually. He’d be better off if he just steeled himself and faced the situation, no matter how uncomfortable it would be.

It wasn’t so much about Em, however. Iain knew what being in a miserable marriage was like, but the difference between the two of them was that while Iain had honoured his vows, Alec and Em had decided to get divorced. That was something Iain would never understand; to him, marriage ended when one of the partners died, not because they decided to give up on it. He thought of that kind of failure as an unwillingness to make the effort. Which was quite rich, since he’d never made an effort in his own marriage. Alec wondered if Iain was even aware of how miserable he’d made his wife and only son; he doubted it.

His apparent disregard for Alec and his mum’s feelings made the way he doted on Teresa all the more puzzling. In Iain’s eyes, she could do no wrong, and he spoiled her every chance he got. Luckily, Teresa had inherited her grandmother’s modesty and so she often refused her grandfather’s gifts or didn’t dare mention something she wanted to have. Because she knew that the chances were good, that she’d find it on her bed the next day .

“I’ll pick Teresa up at the station,” Iain said on Friday after lunch. Moray was there, and Hal, George and Mrs Coulter.

Alec looked up in surprise. So far, it had been his job to give Teresa a lift. Martin had allowed him to drive short distances, and he quite enjoyed that little bit of freedom.

“Oh?” he said.

“It’s time you earned your keep, now that you’re feeling better,” his father said. “We’ve got a new livery horse and I’d like you to take care of her. Everyone else is busy.”

“It’s been a while,” Alec said.

“So? It’s like riding a bike, particularly for someone like you. Such a waste.” His father refused to say more; not that Alec really expected or needed him to. Iain left it to Moray and Hal to give him more information on the mare. After all, he didn’t want to make Teresa wait at the station.

“Her name’s Ruby,” Moray said, “although you wouldn’t guess it if you didn’t know it. She’s a bit of a handful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec asked.

“She’s depressed,” Hal said. “The owner, an elderly man, can't deal with his horses any more, so he sold one and Ruby has been left by herself ever since. Eventually, the owner had to move into assisted living and the children brought Ruby here.”

“Why have they brought her here of all places?” Alec asked. It wasn't as if they were the only livery stables in the area.

The two men gave him a pitying glance.

Alec leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of him. “No fucking way am I going to take care of that horse. I’m nae well enough myself to deal with her.”

“Have a look at her at least, eh?” Moray asked. “You not being on horseback is such a shame.”

“Aye, as ye might remember I’m never going to be on horseback ever again. Nae chance!” Alec growled.

“Ye don’t have to,” Hal said in a conciliatory tone Alec hated because it worked every time. “Just… take care of her, aye? She’s a sorry sight.”

“What makes ye so sure she’ll respond to me?” Alec said.

Moray and Hal didn’t dignify his question with an answer. They just exchanged glances, finished their coffee and left. Sighing, Alec finished his tea.

“They’re right, though,” Mrs Coulter said softly.

“Not you too!” Alec groaned.

“Just sayin’,” she said. “I know it’s difficult for ye, God do I know. I won’t blame ye if ye don’t.”

Her “but”, although unspoken, rang loudly in his ears. He’d been away from animals for a long time now, and while he’d once been considered a ‘horse whisperer,’ he hated that they expected him to just step back into it with no warning. He could barely keep his own life on track. How could he possibly maintain the serenity needed to deal with a traumatized horse? They were such empathic creatures, which was why he gave the stables a wide berth. He didn’t want to upset them with his anger.

“Are ye all right, dear?” Mrs Coulter asked.

“Actually, I’m nae so sure,” Alec said; it felt good to verbalise his emotions.

“Ah. Ye’ve had nae answer from the lass, have ye?” she asked, gathering the cups and saucers. Alec stood to help her.

“How do ye know?” he asked, shaking his head.

“A postcard a day? Must be a very close friend, eh?” she said, nudging him playfully. His anger dissolved into a smile.

“She won’t reply. Which is… good.”

“How can that be possibly any good?”

“Well, at least she disnae tell me to stop, does she?” Alec asked, which in his book was reason enough to keep sharing his thoughts with Holly.

“You must tell me about her. If you want,” she offered.

“It’s a long story.”

“Is it ever a short one?” she sighed. “Look, dear, love’s never easy, but you, more than anyone, deserves a good lass who loves you and whom you can love in return. You’re not made a bachelor.”

“I suppose I’m not,” Alec mumbled, awed by Mrs Coulter’s insight. She was right. He didn’t want to be a grumpy bachelor. He was happiest when he could share his life with a woman he loved. And as much as he wanted to be there for her, he wanted her to be there for him when necessary. “Her name’s Holly.”

“That’s pretty,” Mrs Coulter said.

“She was in a relationship with another lass before we met,” he said.

“Oh, that’s such a shame,” she said.

“No, she… It was… I don’t know what it was, but she… Well, she’s still into blokes,” he said.

“Ah. So it’s about Emma. You’re afraid of potentially not only losing her to another man, but to another woman,” Mrs Coulter said.

“That and… something else,” Alec agreed readily, caught unawares by her acuity.

“Don’t stand in your own way, dear.”

He gathered the cups and saucers and followed Mrs Coulter into the kitchen, where he loaded the dish washer.

“Well, don’t waste time. Off you pop to look after Ruby,” Mrs Coulter said, sending him away with a slap on the wrist when he started to run water into the sink.

-:-

He took off his coat more out of habit than because of the warmth when he entered the stables. It was warm from the body heat of the horses, most of which belonged to his father, and some of which were livery horses. When asked, Hal showed Alec to the very end of the low-ceilinged building; as they passed the loose boxes, their occupants turned to them with mild curiosity. Alec felt himself tense up a bit; the horses didn’t know him, and neither did he. It had been quite a while.

“Don’t,” Hal said, picking up on his nervousness. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Easier said than done,” Alec grumbled.

“Should we stop for a mo?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he replied, taking a deep breath, willing himself to relax. If the mare was traumatised he needed all his wits about him and he needed to radiate confidence and calm.

He approached her carefully but made sure to make some noise as he walked in order not to startle her. The dull sound of his wellies was a reassuring childhood memory,just like the smell of hay and horses was. Memories started to appear out of the dark of his subconscious, of long, pleasant hours spent working and playing with the animals. 

Ruby stood in the shadows of her box and didn’t move as he peered over the edge of the door. The boxes were mock-Victorian; the horses were separated from their neighbours by a grid that swept down towards the stable door so the horses were able to stick their necks out into the aisle. It was something Alec had always liked about the stables at Brochwinnie.

At first Alec thought Ruby, a chestnut as far as he could tell, was asleep because she stood very still. But then her ears twitched gently as she couldn’t suppress the need to find out about the newcomer who'd stopped outside her box. As far as she was concerned, he posed a potential threat. He looked away to check on Hal. He was stroking and chatting to a horse further down the aisle, assuming an air of nonchalance. Alec wanted to snort. He couldn’t be any more obvious if he joined him.

Turning his attention back to Ruby, he stepped a bit closer to the door. Ruby shifted her weight onto both her back feet.

She needed some serious grooming, and her box could do with some cleaning. Apparently, she wouldn’t allow anyone near her and the other grooms had left the job of taking care of her to him. Of course. Alec hated the idea that people assumed he would take over the chore without a fuss. He sighed. Of course he’d help her. But he wasn’t going to rise to the bait and give his father the satisfaction of hearing him complain. 

“Hello, lassie,” he cooed. 

Ruby’s ears twitched despite herself.

“I’m going to stay here a wee while,” he announced, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. 

After a few minutes Ruby relaxed and hung her head a bit more. She had gotten used to his presence, but he wasn’t fool enough to think she didn’t consider him a threat.

He put his left hand onto the edge of the door, but Ruby didn’t even so much as flinch. “I’m going to clean your place a bit,” he told her in a soft but firm tone. He reached for the hay fork leaning on the post dividing her box from the mare’s next door and slowly undid the latch. He slid it open and stepped into the box, pausing briefly to give her a chance to react to his presence.

Ruby was ignoring him.

Alec set to his task, and soon he was back into the rhythm of mucking out a box, feeling the muscles in his arms and lower back burn a bit as they responded to years of lack of exercise. He pursed his lips. He’d let himself go more than he’d wanted since he’d transferred from the Mounted Branch to CID. 

To his great surprise Ruby didn’t even stir when he started cleaning around her, but when he nudged her gently to make room for him, she started and nickered like thunderstorm. She whinnied for good measure, attracting the other horses' attention, and flattened her ears. 

“Good lassie, there's nothing to be afraid of” he crooned, feeling his heart thumping in his chest. He cursed himself because he should have known better than to scare her like that. Ruby had been neglected for quite a while. Of course she'd be scared at the sudden attention and touches.

To his surprise, she calmed after a while, shifting away from him so he could continue. From then on, Alec gave her a running commentary on all his movements. 

The chore done, he found that someone had wheeled away the muck and provided a fresh bale of straw for her box. Spotting Hal down the aisle, he waved at him in thanks. He lifted the bale, remembering its weight only when the aching muscles in his arms did, and began to scatter the straw.

Ruby didn’t move , but she snorted as if to tell him that she’d indulged him long enough. However, when he scattered the straw she danced around a little, suspicious and aware of a threat hidden in the fresh flooring.

“All right, I’m leaving,” Alec said, sliding the door shut behind him and securing the latch.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hal said at the sink while Alec was washing his hands.

“I’m nae a wee lad, Hal,” Alec growled.

“Just sayin’. She usually makes a fuss when someone so much as comes close to her box,” he said.

“Ah.”

“Ye’ve still got it, Alec,” Hal said, his voice laced with admiration.

“Aye, well.” Alec grabbed his coat off the hook and left the warmth of the stables. The November air was cold and very clean compared to the rich smell of the horses.

“Dad!” Teresa waved at him as she crossed the yard.

“Darlin’,” he said, breaking into a wide smile. “How are ye today?”

“It’s Friday!” she cried, hugging him close. “And I got an A for my essay, you know, the one I wrote just before the break.”

“Excellent. We should celebrate. What would you like to do?” he asked. He was thinking of taking her out for a meal down the pub, but he didn’t want to pressure her into anything.

“It’s such a gorgeous day. Can we go for a short walk before it gets dark?” she asked.

The day was indeed a fine one, and he realised that she’d been cooped up in a stuffy classroom and an overheated train carriage.

“Sure,” he said. “You all set?” he asked, looking her up and down. She was in her wellies, jeans and a Barbour jacket just like him, but she was also wearing a knitted hat.

“What do you think of my hat?” she asked, noticing his glance. It had the pattern of the wallpaper from Sherlock’s living room, complete with the yellow smiley he’d spray painted on it to cover up the two bullet holes.

Alec laughed. “Are ye trying to tell me something?”

“No! Yes! I made it myself!”

Alec stepped back to admire her masterpiece. He’d had no idea Teresa knew how to knit.

“A group of girls at school are in a knitting club. It’s all the rage,” she said proudly.

“I could do with one too, you know. Maybe not a _Sherlock_ one. A plain black beanie will do for when I… I go out for a walk.” For a moment he’d wanted to say _when I’m out hunting criminals_ , but he caught himself before the words were out of his mouth. He didn’t want to make any decisions about his future for now.

“It’s Christmas soon,” Teresa said, tapping the side of her nose.

Alec laughed. “Well, shall we? We could grab a drink at the pub if you’d like?”

She linked arms with him, smiling. “I’d love that.”

He smiled and pushed his free hand into the pocket of his jacket, where he felt today’s postcard. After his small triumph with Ruby — because that’s what it was, really — the message on it didn’t feel quite right, but he’d run out of postcards, so he couldn’t save this one up for tomorrow and tell Holly about Ruby.

“So, how was your week?” Teresa asked.

“Quiet, thanks, just like I like it,” he said. “I’m a boring ol’Dad, aren’t I?”

“Nah,” Teresa protested. “Ye’re just getting well again.”

“Alec!” They froze just as they were about to leave the yard. Alec turned around warily to see what his father wanted from him. This was definitely new. So far, he’d sent some errand boy when he needed something.

Iain strode across the yard with grim determination to meet them, his face brightening a little when he looked at Teresa. “All right, sweet?” he asked.

“Aye,” she said. “Dad and I are going to the post box and the pub. Join us?”

For a moment Alec hoped he would say no, but to his surprise Iain eventually nodded. As always, he wouldn’t look them in the eye, and he chewed his bottom lip as he made up his mind. “Aye, why not?”

Alec felt himself grow uneasy again. He’d been looking forward to this walk with his daughter all week, and now his father was joining them, effectively shutting him up. They set off down the road to the village, Teresa chattering on about her week to cut through the tension between her father and grandfather. Alec felt horrible for letting her take over responsibility to fill the chasm between them; she shouldn’t have to do it. He ought to send her back so he and Iain could finally have the talk they’d been dancing around for three weeks now. But he didn’t have it in him.

“How did things go with Ruby?” Iain asked eventually.

“Well, I suppose. Didn’t Hal tell you,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“He dinnae.”

There was a lengthy pause that Teresa didn’t dare fill; she dug her fingers into his arm.

“Ye think ye’ll manage with her?”

“Aye,” he replied, and that was that.

“Don’t you miss working with the horses, Dad?” Teresa asked. She’d spent a lot of time at the stables with him as a child, and he had taught her a lot about horses and riding. But it all had stopped after the accident.

He sighed, looking up at the sky. The sun had already disappeared behind the hills and it was going to be dark soon. “I’ve learned to live without them.”

“That’s impossible,” Iain protested.

“Dad,” Alec warned. They’d been over this again and again.

“Just sayin’,” he grumbled. “’S a bloody waste, that’s what it is.”

“What do you want?” Alec challenged.

“A walk with my granddaughter and son, if that’s all right,” Iain snorted. “And a pint and a dram down the pub. Lord knows I can do with one of each.”

“What happened, gramps?” Teresa asked.

“Naethin’ in particular, sweet. It’s just one of those days, eh?” He wrapped an arm around her and Alec let go of her at once. Iain sighed but didn’t comment.

As they reached the entrance to the village Alec pulled the postcard for Holly out of his pocket and tapped it against his fingers. Normally, he’d send it off with one last glance at the picture, as if to make sure that she'd like it, but not today.

“Who’s the lass?” Iain asked when he returned from the post box.

Alec glared at him.

“Oh come on, ye cannae tell me there’s not a woman behind those. I do notice things,” Iain chided.

“She’s a friend from Broadchurch,” Alec said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing. There wasn’t anything he could hide from his father and he felt foolish for trying.

“Why disnae she come up here to visit?”

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

“Ah.” Iain shook his head.

“It’s complicated.”

“Do ye love her?” Iain asked.

Alec stopped. He was dumbfounded by his father’s sudden interest. For a moment he considered telling him to sod off. He’d never taken much of an interest in his affairs of the heart when he’d been with Emma. He wondered what had changed his father. 

“Do ye?” Iain asked. He’d stopped too, a few feet away, his arm still draped around Teresa’s shoulders.

“Aye.”

Iain grunted. “Postcards, eh?”

Alec squared his shoulders.

“Ye never get an answer, though, do ye? I wonder why ye’re still here.”

“Doctor’s orders, remember?” Alec grumbled.

“It’s time ye started listening to yer heart, Alec,” Iain said. Then he jerked his head. “Come on. I’m parched, and I’m sure my beautiful granddaughter is too.”

Teresa flushed in the falling dusk.


	9. Nine

Nine

“I think you’ve bought each of them,” the little old lady said at the village shop cum post office. Alec needed some new cards, or at least two or three to get him through the weekend, to send to Holly. 

“Aye,” he mumbled noncommittally, studying the images in their neat rows on the wall. 

“You can print your own over there, you know. Brand-new, the thing is, but hardly anyone uses it,” she said, pointing at a cluttered corner. It was little wonder that no one ever gave it a try, Alec thought. No one wanted to trip over piles of toilet paper and the large packs of water.

“I don’t take photos.”

“Maybe you’d like to draw? Maisie across the street has some beautiful watercolour paper the size of postcards,” she suggested.

“I don’t draw.” _That’s what my… what Holly does._

He picked two cards that weren’t exactly beauties, but they were better than not sending her any. He hated the idea that apart from her name he didn’t have a label to attach to her. But maybe that was a good thing. Why would anyone want to be labeled and discarded in a drawer?

_It would be nice to be able to call her friend, lover, girlfriend. Or, failing all else, at least fuck buddy._

The point was, he wanted her back. He missed her.

“I’ll take these,” he said, adding two bars of orange chocolate to the cards.

“There’s a used-book fair at the church today,” the old lady offered as she scanned the items. The modern cash register seemed out of place in this old-fashioned corner shop. He thought briefly of poor Jack. He’d seemed as incongruous amid the papers, snacks and cheap beach toys as this dignified old lady did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She blinked, clearly surprised by his interest. “Margaret.”

“Thank you, Margaret. When does the fair start?” he asked. Although it might not be more than a few people selling their well-thumbed paperback copies of mysteries and romances, it couldn’t hurt to take a look. You never knew what you might find hidden in the cardboard boxes.

“Oh, it’s already started, dearie,” she said, smiling.

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?” he asked, feeling for his money in his pocket.

“That’s 3,28, please,” she said, checking the cashier. “You are Iain Hardy’s boy, right?”

He nodded, dumping the change she gave him into a transparent charity box. Apparently, she was a better detective than him, finding the information she needed easily.

“Thought so. You’re very much like him when he was your age,” she said.

Alec looked at her. He didn’t expect to be recognised because of his father. Especially with all of the attention from Danny’s case. But maybe that was too far removed from the public memory already, or the news hadn’t made it this far? Which seemed curious, since the press coverage all mentioned the Sandbrook case, which was much more local. “How do you know my father?”

“I went to school with him,” she said. “I took over this wee shop a couple of years ago. Couldn’t sit still at home, you know.”

“Oh, that’s… good for you.”

“Aye, that it is. Well, off you pop, dearie. Tell Iain I have his magazines and that unless he collects them by tea-time I’ll send them back to the warehouse.”

Alec laughed. “I will. But I could take them…”

“Nah. There’s a lot of them and you wouldn’t want to cut your fingers on the string.”

He gave her a small salute and left the shop with his postcards and the two bars of chocolate. Following the main road he reached the church after a few minutes. The small square outside it was teeming with people inspecting the discarded worlds of their neighbours in cardboard boxes and packing crates. When he spotted the professional book sellers with their awnings and trestle tables, he knew that this wasn’t just some small village event. He realised, once again, that he hadn’t been here in far too long a time. But then again, he’d had little reason to return after his mother’s death.

Alec felt most drawn to the tables with the old books, and after a few minutes of looking he found what he’d not been aware he’d been looking for. It was a slim green volume of Black’s Guide to Wessex. He thought of Holly immediately; although the book was out of date by about twelve decades it covered places in and around Broadchurch she might want to explore; giving insight into the history of the place as a seaside town. The volume also featured beautifully done sketches of select places and a whole lot of ads for hotels and shops that no longer existed, as well as other items a traveller might require. There was also a map.

He gladly paid the twenty pounds the bookseller asked for, and went away with a paper bag containing a battered paperback novel and several more of the wonderful guidebooks, including one about Scotland. It might be interesting to see what it had to say about Brochwinnie, if it mentioned the stud at all.

On his way back he sat on a bench outside the shop and told Holly about Ruby. He put the card in the small box he bought from Margaret for the Wessex guide and sent the package off to Holly.

Alec stepped out of the small post office when his mobile trilled in his pocket. It was Ellie. She hadn’t called in a fortnight, and he was still a bit disappointed she hadn’t accepted his offer to come up to Brochwinnie for the holidays. He hoped she’d accept his invitation over Christmas, or at least Hogmanay. The idea of her and the boys spending the festive season by themselves wasn’t particularly uplifting.

“Don’t flatter yerself,” he grumbled. They might have a place other than Brochwinnie to go to. He accepted the call.

“We’ve got an arsonist,” Ellie said after the usual exchange of pleasantries.

“Does that mean you’re back on duty?” he asked.

There was a short pause. “Yes.”

“Are they treating you well?”

“I gave them a little speech,but they seemed offended that I’d underestimate them like that. It’s all water under the bridge now, though,” she said.

“Are you all right?”

“I am, I suppose. I had a bit of a falling out with Holly a few weeks back.”

He stopped in his tracks, glancing down the hill to the coast in the distance. “What happened?”

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry, Alec.”

She told him about her attempt to befriend Holly and trying to make her understand how he felt about her. That woman was impossible. “Ellie,” he began, scrubbing his hand over his face to stay calm. “It wasn’t your business to tell her. You betrayed both our confidences.”

That explained a lot. Of course Holly must feel he’d hated her and had left because of her. It was also little wonder that she didn’t reply to his postcards at all. She still had his phone number, if not his address here.

“I’m sorry, Alec,” Ellie said in that voice that suggested she was close to tears.

“Now, don’t cry, Ellie,” he said a bit more sharply than he’d intended, but it was either that or calling her Miller. “You meant well.”

There were a sniffle and a pause. 

“Who are you and what have you done to Alec Hardy?” she asked.

He took a deep breath. “I’m relaxed, is all,” he said. “One reason for which is having Teresa back in my life.”

“Oh, that’s good,” she replied, sounding very relieved. “She’s great.”

“Aye.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t come to stay with you during the autumn break. There were just so many things to do. You know, with… Joe.”

“Aye. Don’t worry about it. You’re welcome to come over Christmas or Hogmanay,” he said, carefully leaning the bag against the drystone wall separating the road from the hill that sloped down to meet the promenade.

“Thank you, Alec. We’ll think about it.”

“What’s this about the arsonist?” he asked before he got too comfortable and bared more of his soul to her.

“He set fire to the annexe of the home of one of the teachers at South Wessex Secondary School. The fire investigator had a hard time determining it was arson.”

“But there’s no doubt now that it was arson?”

“None whatsoever. Whoever is behind this is very clever but at the same time incredibly stupid. As usual, they thought lighting the fire with a match and leaving it behind would cover up all their traces,” Ellie said.

Alec frowned. He hadn’t worked many such cases, having specialised in homicide early on in his career; he scraped together what he’d heard at classes on arson and wanted to curse himself for not tapping into that kind of knowledge regularly — or updating it. “That sounds quite a bit like an enthusiast trying to emulate the pros. Does Broadchurch or Wessex have a history of arson?” he asked.

He could hear Ellie’s smile through the phone as she replied. “Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll put the new kid on it.”

“The new kid.”

“Benjamin Dane.”

He covered his mouth with his hand. “Is he my replacement?”

“Good God, don’t be ridiculous, Alec. He’s only started training. For the time being I can choose my partner. I’m… I’m in charge of CID in Broadchurch until further notice. Until you come back.”

“Ellie.” _That might not happen._ “That might not happen for a long while yet.” He surprised himself with his thought, and he wondered where that had come from. He loved his job as such, but through Sandbrook and Broadchurch he had learned that there was such a thing as being too dedicated. His marriage had broken over Sandbrook; it probably had suffered from the demands of both their jobs before, and the botched case was just the last straw. Broadchurch had nearly cost him his life because he felt the need to prove himself. To himself and to the world.

“We live in hope. The incident room send their love.”

“To Shitface?” he scoffed.

She laughed. “You’re not supposed to know that, but yeah. They do. Seriously.”

“How are things down there? Regarding Joe and… your role in this?”

“They find it difficult to understand how I didn’t notice anything, but thanks to their training they know intellectually that that’s what happens in child abuse. They try to explain that to all and sundry, and there was even a public talk at school about it. They’re real darlings, my boys.”

“Your boys?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. She wasn’t talking about Tom and Freddie; she wasn’t talking about herself either, so she probably wasn’t as well as she led him to believe she was. 

“Yeah. You’ll have to come back if you want them to be your boys again.”

“They never were mine and you know that.”

Ellie sighed. “People change, Alec.”

“That they do. Sometimes. More or less,” he conceded. “I’m sorry.”

There was another short pause.

“Thanks for the tip about the arsonist. I’ll follow this one up first thing.”

“You do that. Do keep in touch.”

“What are you doing up there?”

“Ironically, I’m looking after a neglected horse.”

Ellie burst into laughter.

“Seriously though.”

“I’m nae kidding, Miller,” he growled.

“Who would have thought that? Shitface is a horse whisperer.”

“I’m no such thing, Ellie, and you know it.”

“Sorry. It’s just… hard to imagine. But on second thought it suits you. I can imagine you working with horses. You were with the Glasgow Mounted Branch before —“

He cut her off. “How do you know about that?”

“Someone found it on the internet,” she said.

He sighed. “Please don’t… don’t…” He didn’t want everyone to know that he was good with animals, or had been until the accident. He didn’t want them to discover his other big mistake. Chances were, however, that they would, because this was in his files, and there was always someone somewhere who owed someone else a favour.

“Alec. I’ll make sure they keep it to themselves, right? They’re just… puzzled by you.”

Alec would never have thought that he was so interesting. “I’m not sure that’s particularly flattering.”

“I’ll tell them to respect your wishes,” Ellie said.

“Thanks, Ellie.”

He ended the call and took a deep breath. Of course this was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d just hoped it would be much later. Maybe it was time to leave the police altogether. If the accident became public knowledge his career was definitely going to come to an end. Not because they’d fire him. He’d just find it unbearable to work with people who would be likely to second-guess all of his decisions.

-:-

At Brochwinnie he took his purchases up to his suite and changed into his rattiest jeans and wellies to take care of Ruby. He had expected her to be more skittish than she was, but he didn’t trust her. Maybe she’d been startled by his attention, or she was an exceptionally curious horse. He wasn’t going to take any chances, however. He didn’t want to recover from broken bones as well.

Entering the stables he made more noise than absolutely necessary when he neared Ruby’s box, taking care, however, not to upset the other animals.

“Hello, Ruby,” he said, stopping in front of her box.

Ruby was standing in the far corner, but she tossed her head and her ears moved as she tried to find out who was disturbing her peace and quiet.

“It’s me again,” he continued, putting his hand on the edge of the door. “I was here yesterday to liberate you from the muck around your feet. I’m pretty sore, but, actually, it feels good. Today’s going to be a lot less work, though.”

He unlatched the door and stepped into the straw-strewn box. A few bits of straw were tangled in the unkempt mass of her mane and stuck to her coat. “Ye’ve been trying to give yerself a bath, aye?” he mumbled.

Her ears moved and she lifted her head a wee bit.

“I’ll bring you fresh straw in a bit. I’d offer you a good bath and grooming too, but I don’t want to scare you,” he said. Alec remained standing where he was to give her a chance to adjust to his presence. He could kick himself for forgetting to bring the hay fork and wheelbarrow with him; he’d have to go through the whole ritual again. What was more, he was going to disappoint her because he’d have to leave without doing anything he’d promised, even if it was just for a few minutes.

“I’ll be back in a mo, aye?” he said, raising his hand slowly, but Ruby took offence anyway.

With a few jump-like strides she was near him, baring her teeth and flattening her ears,making a panicked sound. If he hadn’t withdrawn his hand so quickly and stepped back he was sure she’d have bitten him.

It would have served him right.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. You didn’t startle a traumatised horse like this. She was worse off than he’d thought. “All right, love, it’s all right. I’m nae going to touch ye if ye don’t want it.” He tried to sound calm and soothing as he stood his ground. If he left before she relaxed she'd never accept him. So he patiently waited for her to calm down before he slowly backed out of the box and pulled the door shut.

“She’s more than a handful today, isn’t she?” Moray asked, startling him.

“What have ye done to her?” Alec grumbled, looking at the mare. She was breathing hard, her ears busy to assess the situation.

“She was out cold when they brought her here. According to her vet there was no other way of getting her into the trailer. To say nothing of getting her in here,” he said with a sigh. Moray hated it when they had to use such drastic measures, but even Alec knew that sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“I hate it when they do that.”

“I know.”

Alec’s gaze fell on the wheelbarrow and apple picker Moray had brought. “I won’t be needing these for a while. I think I’ll just sit here for a while and let her get used to company again.”

Moray raised an eyebrow.

“Human company,” Alec amended.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“Don’t ye have anything better to do?”

“Nope,” Moray said, sitting down on the wooden box on the far side of the aisle.

Alec moved the wheelbarrow out of harm’s way and stood just outside Ruby’s door. “I’m not going anywhere, Ruby. I’m sorry if I startled you. It’s been a while since I had a horse friend.”

Ruby focussed her eyes on him and straightened her ears. At least he had her attention now.

“I wish I could stay here with you all the time,” he said. “But I can’t. So we’ll have to make the most of the time we have, eh? Whatcha think?”

Ruby looked at him, the whites in her eyes showing, and he wasn’t sure if she was still scared.

“I’m a friend, Ruby. I’m here to keep you company,” he crooned. “Such a beautiful horse as you shouldn’t be left alone. But it’s going to be all right, I’m here now.”

He sensed movement beside him and, turning his head, he saw Moray standing next to him. “This is my friend Moray. He’s a good lad,” he said when Ruby turned her attention to him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to join us, though.” 

“I’m just here to say hello,” Moray said, withdrawing.

For a while he and Ruby stood looking at each other. He kept talking to her in a low voice to calm her down and to give her a chance to get to know his voice. Moray was sitting on the box behind him, watching all the time, and eventually Ruby was ready for him to enter the box again to clean it. He ran a commentary on each of his movements to give Ruby a chance to know where he was, and this time he didn’t make the mistake of touching her. He worked around her so he didn't upset her. Ruby remained calm.

He supposed it was a good sign.

After he’d spread fresh bedding in her box and checked on her water and food supply, he left and pulled the door shut behind him.

“You’ve still got it, mate,” Moray said as they left.

Of course, he didn’t know that his knees were weak and his heart was thumping. But for the first time in ages, the thumping in his chest felt good.


	10. Ten

Ten

A smooth-faced plainclothes policeman came down to see Holly after the desk sergeant had called up to the incident room to let Ellie know she had a visitor. Holly relaxed in relief at the disappointment, but wondered at the same time what she was supposed to do with the cake she’d brought as a peace-offering. 

“Miss Carlisle? I’m DC Dane,” he said, his face brightening with a smile when he saw her. Apparently, he had expected someone else.

Holly smiled, rising from the wooden bench. “Hello.” She’d have wanted to add his rank, but he seemed so young. And using just his name felt wrong too.

“DI Miller asked me to take you upstairs. She’ll be with you in a quarter of an hour or so. If you have that much time, that is? We have a new coffee maker,” he said, and Holly was amused by his eagerness to please. If only the poor chap had an idea that she’d come for the real DI. She’d read about Ellie’s promotion to acting DI in the paper.

“I’ll wait, thank you,” she said, following him through a door that opened after he’d punched in a code at the keypad by the knob.

Holly was acutely aware of the fact that this used to be Alec’s workplace too, and she tried to picture him in the strange mix of styles that made up the interior of the station. The hall bisecting the octagonal building was strangely soulless, just like any other government building, but compared to the bare concrete walls of the asymmetrical incident room it was almost cheerful. Whoever had designed the interior of the station had opted for the dark and muted atmosphere of a mission control room out of a film about moon rockets or U-boats. The local force had put its stamp on the room, however, by adding personal tidbits and working with the Venetian blinds pulled up to let in some of the gorgeous light.

There was a pair of offices partitioned on the main floor with a drywall and glass construction; the commanding officers’ nooks, apparently. As Dane led her to the kitchen, she spotted Ellie sitting at her desk rather than in the DI’s office. Ellie looked at her briefly, she even waved at her, but her expression was tense. The person she was on the phone with had her full attention.

Dane motioned to her to sit down at the table in the kitchen while he fumbled a bit with the fancy coffee maker. Either he was new and hadn’t figured out how to use the contraption yet or it really was a recent acquisition. It was either him who was new and not used to operate the contraption, or the thing really was a recent acquisition.

“What would you like, miss?” he asked.

“Plain black coffee, thanks,” Holly said.

So this was where Alec had had his tea. She flattened her palm against the wood of the table.

“May I ask what brings you here?” Dane asked, pressing a button on the machine. The grinder started to make a terrible racket as it reduced a measure of coffee beans to powder.

“It’s something personal,” Holly said.

“Oh?”

Holly blinked. “It really is personal.”

“Oh! Oh, right. Sorry.”

The machine hissed as it poured the coffee into the cup Dane had put beneath the nozzle. The small room filled with the rich aroma of proper coffee. 

She declined sugar and milk and Dane hovered for a few beats after handing her the mug, obviously trying to decide if he should leave her by herself in the kitchen.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” Holly said, gently lifting the mug to her lips, blowing over the steaming contents. 

Dane left reluctantly. Apparently, there was no protocol for what to do with visitors who came on personal business. It suddenly occurred to Holly that she probably shouldn’t have come to Ellie’s work place. She ought to have phoned to arrange a time to meet. But it was too late now. She considered leaving when the door opened and in came Ellie. 

“This a surprise,” she said, crossing the small space to the coffee maker to get a mug of coffee for herself.

“I’m sorry. I know coming here is a rubbish idea,” Holly said, rising.

“I’m the boss. That gives me certain liberties,” Ellie said. “Please, sit. I could do with a break anyway.”

Ellie turned away to press some buttons on the coffee maker. Holly sat down, trapping her hands between her thighs. “I’ve come to say sorry,” she said just as the grinder whirred to life.

“Sorry?” Ellie asked, turning around.

“I’m sorry,” Holly repeated. “For treating you like I did.”

“I deserved it. I was nosy. But I was also sorry at the time,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, I know,” Holly said, pulling one hand from between her legs to brush back a lock of hair.

Ellie waited for the mug to fill then she sat facing Holly. “I told Alec to stop using me as his errand girl.”

Holly smiled. “He’s got a new one. The secretary at school.”

Ellie sipped her coffee. “He’s not still sending you stuff? Wow, he doesn’t give up, does he?”

Holly shrugged. “Postcards and books. Through Ashok at the shop.”

Ellie laughed but sobered quickly. “Stop it. Stop him. Tell him that you don’t want him and put him out of his misery, Holly.”

She shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

The policewoman looked at her hard.

“I’d like to get in touch with him.”

Ellie’s expression changed to surprise. “Then why don’t you? Why are you telling me?”

“I’d like to send him something in the post, rather than just a text. A text just seems wrong, too impersonal. And I’d like for us to be friends again. If that’s still an option.”

“It is,” Ellie said, smiling. She raised her mug in a toast and drank. Holly, feeling free for the first time in weeks, followed suit. “I like the way you think, Holly. I have his address somewhere buried in the mess of my desk. We usually use the phone.”

“Yeah, I know. We… we’re a bit weird in that regard.” Holly had used the pronoun as if there was a ‘we’. She bit her lip and ducked her head. Through the material of her bag she could feel the shape of the standard-issue package she’d found in her pigeon hole this morning. She hadn’t opened it yet but couldn’t wait to do so in the privacy of her room.

“Don’t allow that to change. Ever,” Ellie said. “Are you all right, though?”

“I’ve got work at school, and some great friends there,” Holly said. “But I miss him. Alec. With every postcard he sends I feel like we're somehow more distant, and yet closer at the same time. Does that make any sense?”

“It does, yeah,”Ellie said with a sigh.

“How are you and the boys holding up?”

“It’s been a difficult time, but things are looking up. People are starting to understand that it was all Joe’s fault, that there wasn’t anything I could have done. No way I could have known,” she said.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Holly said. She was shy, however, to ask Ellie how she was doing personally. They’d only just made up; asking something so private felt wrong at this point. “My mum’s in town. She’s leaving tomorrow and she’s cooking for my friends. Tonight. Join us.”

Ellie clearly hadn’t expected that, and Holly cursed herself for being so forward. It was incredibly short notice, besides, she’d forgotten about Ellie’s boys.

“Maybe not tonight,” Ellie said.

“Yeah. It’s silly of me to expect you to be able to be free on such short notice,” Holly said sheepishly.

Ellie smiled at her. “I’ll get you the address. How about we have lunch tomorrow? If you can get away from school, that is.”

“I can’t. The Arts Club meets at lunchtime. How about coffee after school?”

After Ellie had copied Alec’s address on a yellow sticky-note, Dane saw her out. Thankfully, he held back. Holly sensed that he was close to asking her out.

When she arrived at home, her mum had run to the shops for something she’d forgotten for dinner. She’d left her a note to look after the veggies she’d left in the oven. The whole place was filled with the mouth-watering smell of celeriac and fennel roasting in an enamel dish at low temperatures. 

Thankful for the short breather, she opened Alec’s package to find an old travel guide to Wessex. It was a small volume, bound in green linen that had been worn smooth and shiny by many hands, the edges and spine softened. One of Alec’s postcards marked the entry on Broadchurch. Rose smiled. The book was almost 120 years old.

_I thought you might enjoy a bit of time travel. I’m doing some on a daily basis when I take care of a skittish young lady called Ruby._

Holly frowned. But then she spotted the note at the bottom edge of the postcard.

_(She’s a beautiful chestnut mare.)_

She laughed. For a moment she’d been crestfallen. It shouldn’t have surprised her that a man like Alec would find someone new, particularly after the way she’d treated him on the beach.

Holly fished the note with his address out of her pocket. Flipping open her laptop, she googled the address. Brochwinnie was a stud near Glasgow, and it even had its own web presence.

“Holly, sweet! I’m back!”

Holly felt like a guilty teenager and quickly closed the lid of her laptop, rising to meet her mum and help her with preparations.

“Is Ellie going to join us?” Stella asked.

“No, but at least she did accept my apology. We’re going to have coffee tomorrow.”

“Pity. I’d have loved to meet her,” she replied.

“There will by other chances to meet her, Mum,” Holly said. “Now, what can I do?”

-:-

Alec’s idea about time travel echoed in her mind all night, and she felt she was being a very bad hostess. No matter how hard she tried to join their conversation — which was mostly about food and its preparation; her Mum was a hit with her friends — her thoughts kept returning to Alec and Brochwinnie. She’d had no idea that he lived on a stud now, much less that he was good with horses. Truth be told, she’d never have pictured him there; it became clear that she didn’t know him half as well as she would have liked.

“You’re very quiet tonight,” Maude said as she helped her get coffee ready.

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s just… I’ve had some news and I can’t seem to shake them.”

Maude looked at her with concern. “Nothing bad I hope?”

Holly laughed, although she kicked herself mentally. She hadn’t meant to upset Maude. “No, no, not at all. It’s a long story.”

“Will I get to hear it?”

“How much time do you have?”

“What’s this about an epic story?” Nathan asked as he joined them to put their dessert dishes into the washer.

Holly sighed. She had hinted at things with Alec to Robin. It was high time, she felt, that she told the Cinema Club the story. “My love life. It’s not epic, because it usually fails to get to the point where it could get epic.”

“You’re speaking in tongues, my dear,” Nathan said.

“I’ll tell you over coffee, yeah?”

“Do we need more wine? Something stronger, maybe?” he suggested. Trust him to try to make her feel comfortable.

“That might be a good idea,” she said, smiling.

They sat down again, and Holly took a deep breath to tell them about Karen and Alec. It was a massive proof of her trust in them that she told them about her relationship with Karen. At first, they looked shocked, Robin in particular, and her Mum looked a bit uncomfortable, but then they started asking questions. No, she hadn’t forced or coerced Karen into a relationship; never would she have given her better marks — she did have some professional standards left, thank you very much. No, she wasn’t attracted to women in general.

“Still, that makes you bi,” Maude pointed out.

Holly pursed her lips. “I suppose it does.”

“And Karen’s parents?”

“They won’t press charges. It’s a moot point now, anyway. I don’t feel attracted to teenagers at all. Horrific bundles of hormones. Karen was different,” Holly explained. “Besides, I have met a bloke who’s older than me and whom I love.” There, she’d admitted it.

She grinned.

“And where is he?” Robin asked.

“That’s the tricky bit,” Holly began. Then she told them about Alec and their arrangement, and how, over time, it had become more. And then he’d left.

“You are seriously fucked up. If you don’t mind my saying so, Stella,” Nathan said, reaching out for her mum in a placating gesture. To her surprise, her mum was very relaxed. She usually didn’t approve of such language, but now she just nodded. Maybe she’d had a glass too many. 

“You’re right. She shouldn’t have to struggle so much,” her mum said.

“So what are you going to do? Does he know you love him?”

Holly nodded. 

“And?” Maude asked, her eyes going wide.

“And he didn’t say it back.”

“Bastard.”

Stella tutted but dissolved into giggles at once.

“I repeat: What are you going to do? The postcards and pressies sound like he’s still interested in you. Or do you think he’s some crazy stalker?” Robin asked.

“No, he’s not like that. He told _me_ to go, remember?”

“So?” Robin challenged, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“He’s not like that,” Holly insisted.

“I’d never have thought you’d f… fancy a pupil,” Nathan pointed out gently.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be with a girl,” Holly quipped.

“Did you like it?” Nathan asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“Nate!” Maude cried. “This is neither the place nor the time. Don’t tell anyone about Karen, or at least don’t mention her age. Particularly not after what happened to poor Danny.”

The others nodded, looking worried. Holly didn’t even want to begin to think of what the good people of Broadchurch might do to her if word got out that she’d had a relationship with a minor.

“You must think I’m a horrible person,” she mused, sipping her wine.

“You’re no more horrible now than you were this morning,” Nathan said. “Just a bit more… you. But Maude is right. Don’t tell anyone. To be quite honest, I’ll have to mull things over too. Reconcile that side of yours with the one I know.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Holly said, biting her lip. 

“I’m glad you told us,” Robin said. “And we won’t tell a soul. Technically, Karen wasn’t your pupil any more, right?”

Holly nodded.

“It doesn’t make it better, but at least they can’t accuse you of being with one of your own pupils,” Maude said.

“Parents have become a lot more protective round here, I’m sure,” her mum finally said.

“The worst thing is,” Holly said, “Alec has a fifteen-year-old daughter.”

Nathan sighed. “You never do things the easy way, huh? You artsy types _are_ nutters.”

“But you do love my artwork, don’t you?” Holly said, and that changed the mood from serious to something more playful. “Not that it’s an excuse,” she mumbled.

“It’s not, but I think you’re punishing yourself worse than any court could, eh?” Robin said. “Forgive yourself, love, and allow Alec to get to know you. I’m sure he was just as shocked as we are.”

“Only that we’re not in love with you,” Nathan added.

 _Which only makes it worse_ , Holly thought.

-:-

A couple of days later, Holly finally knew what she was going to send Alec. She’d been through a wealth of ideas, but she didn’t want to buy him just something. Even a book she might want to share with him. That could wait.

On a fine but cold day she sat down in the garden, bundled up in a thick coat, a blanket and fingerless gloves, a thermos mug with coffee by her side, and sketched the view of the house from the garden. She’d read in the Guide to Wessex he’d sent her that her house had been designed by Thomas Hardy. It was a bit silly to be amused by the fact that he and the architect of her new home shared a name, but she couldn’t help herself.

Along with the sketch of Thomas’ Cottage, as she came to refer to her home from now on, she included a handful of sea glass for him. When she’d had dinner at Ellie’s she saw that he had left the jar of sea glass she had given him in her care — “Just temporarily, it was just too heavy to lug to Scotland on the train,” Ellie assured her. Their friendship had started with a small collection of sea glass and a sketch; rekindling it with a picture of Thomas’ Cottage and the sanded shards seemed perfect.

She sent the small package off with shaky hands, not sure what reaction she expected. She’d only included a short note.

_I love this place. It’s perfect for drawing and painting, but I miss you._


	11. Eleven

Part 2

Thomas’ Cottage

Eleven

Six days after Alec had started working with Ruby, she began to wait for him to clean out her box. She’d look out of the door, nickering gently when she recognised his footfall and the sound of his voice. She’d not admit she enjoyed his company yet; as soon as he came close she’d withdraw and pretend to ignore him. 

Alec noticed, smirking to himself, but he didn’t comment out loud. He set to work, giving her a running commentary, as always, and he wasn’t surprised when she stepped aside for him. 

“Thank you kindly,” he said and continued as if nothing had happened.

As he worked his thoughts turned to Holly. The longer he was here the more he missed her, and once or twice he wondered if the effect was the opposite of what he wanted. When Moray stopped by outside Ruby's box to check on her progress Alec even asked for his advice.

“Well, she hasn’t sent you a court order, has she?” was all Moray said.

“It’s either that or she’s been chucking my cards into the bin,” Alec sighed. “Ashok called to let me know that Holly at least collected her gift.”

Alec continued to work when Moray left after a while to get his own horse ready for an outing. Once Alec was finished, he joined Moray outside. Moray adjusted the girth of the saddle. His horse, like so many, loved to hold his breath when Moray put the saddle on, only to deflate later, thus loosening the girth. “Why don’t you ask your DS?”

Despite the long break in the conversation about Holly, Alec caught on immediately.

“Ellie and Holly aren’t talking to each other.” Alec took the reins of Moray’s horse, stroking his black neck.

“Are ye sure ye don’t want to come? It’s a gorgeous day,” his best friend said, his words dissolving in small clouds in front of his mouth. The day was cold but nice, and the air carried the scent of snow. Moray pulled down the stirrups of his saddle.

“Nah, ye go ahead.”

He watched Moray mount with one swift motion and he let go of the horse to pass Moray his hat. Having fastened the chin strap, Moray saluted and rode off.

Alec returned to the warmth of his suite to write another postcard. On his way to the postbox he gave himself a deadline. He decided that if his postcards and gifts remained unanswered by the end of November, he'd stop writing to her. Giving her up would not be easy, and every time he thought about his decision his heart started to pound and he had to close his eyes to banish the pain it pumped through his body. 

It wasn’t a physical pain. Martin was very pleased with how well he was doing with the new medication, and, truth be told, he was feeling a lot better for it. Physically, at least.

-:-

Two days later, Ruby welcomed him at her door. When he reached out to touch her nose, she huffed warily and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, but eventually she held still as he carefully lowered his hand onto the soft dark skin.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said, smiling. He noticed how he lowered his voice a few notches. “Are you ready for me to clean out your box, hmm?”

She nudged him before stepping aside to allow him in.

“I had a parcel in the post this morning,” he said. “From another lady in my life who’s been testing me. Her name’s Holly, but you needn’t worry. She’s a woman, a great artist. She sent me some pieces of sea glass and a sketch of the house she lives in.”

He watched Ruby’s movements, his heart pounding. _Holly finally contacted me. Holly finally contacted me._

“I still can’t believe she sent me the parcel. I’ll have to have the sketch framed, like the one of the cup of tea,” he said, adding the last load of muck to the wheelbarrow.

He took it outside, and when he returned, he found Ruby standing in the aisle, looking in on the mare that had foaled the morning after his arrival. The mare was aware of her visitor, bobbing her head as Ruby approached them. Ruby just looked on, finally curious of her surroundings, and Alec smiled. But then of course the inevitable happened.

Alec kicked himself mentally and dropped the bale of hay he was carrying on the ground. He’d been so lost in thought that he’d forgotten to close the door to Ruby’s box, giving her a chance to wander.

Ruby got too close to the foal and the mother leapt towards the door to protect her young one. Both mares squealed loudly, upsetting the other horses in the stables and giving Alec a fright. Ruby nervously danced away from the box door, and for a moment he was afraid she'd bolt. He'd totally forgotten how horses reacted to each other.

“Well, well, look at that,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

Alec sighed, but didn’t move. He could live with his father’s remarks. The fact that Ruby was out socialising was more important than a lecture. Iain seemed to think so too.

“Let’s wait and see what happens,” Alec said.

Iain murmured in agreement and they stood, watching the horses. Recovered from the scare, both mares relaxed. Once they were sure their respective needs were met, Ruby went closer to the door to greet the mare and her foal for a second time. This time, the mare merely nickered and huffed. As soon as her curiosity was satisfied Ruby turned away to look at the two men. She straightened her ears and tossed her head, unsure of how to react to Iain’s presence.

“It’s all right, Ruby,” Alec said. “Iain’s a friend too.”

Ruby huffed in response but stood unmoving. It seemed she couldn’t make up her mind.

Getting her back into her box was going to be difficult without a headcollar, but he couldn’t leave her alone with Iain to get hers, nor could he send Iain off to get it. Her headcollar was on a hook outside her box. “Shall we go back to your box?”

Holding out his hand, he took a step towards her. “It’s good seeing you outside, but now I need you to get back in, sweet. I’ve even got fresh straw for you, see?”

Ruby’s ears twitched but she didn’t move.

Alec dared take another step towards her, and another. She nickered. “Come. Let’s get you back inside, hmm?” he crooned.

“Here, ye might want to try this,” Iain said, passing him a treat he seemed to have snatched out of thin air.

Alec took it and held it out for her. Ruby gave him a long look, and carefully, he walked past her, still holding the treat where she could see it. Finally, Ruby turned around and walked slowly towards her box with Alec by her side. He didn’t dare touch her for fear of spooking her at the very last minute. Ruby went inside her box, picked the treat from his palm almost daintily and waited for him to return with the straw.

His heart was pounding even as he scattered the straw on the rubber matting, talking nonsense to her. Ruby watched him carefully, and when he left her box, she followed him to the door to say goodbye.

Alec held up his hand in greeting, and she nudged it gently with her nose, nickering. After he’d made sure that the latch was fastened securely, Alec walked outside into the cold and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. His tension dissolved into the crisp November air.

“Here, son,” Iain said, offering him his hip flask, the silver stopper removed.

Alec shook his head but appreciated the gesture. “I’m nae supposed to, but thanks.”

“That was something else, eh? Looks like you’ve still got it after all,” Iain said, screwing the flask closed and sliding it into the inside breast pocket of his coat. “Where’s yer coat?”

Alec jerked his head in the general direction of the stable door. Iain disappeared to get it.

Alec took a deep, steadying breath. This could have gotten out of hand very quickly, very easily. Ruby was only starting to show her true self, and they didn’t know what to expect. Alec tended not to trust the owners’ description of their horse in cases like Ruby’s. Which meant that once he’d drawn her out of her shell he needed to get to know her as quickly as possible. Which included grooming and walking her before she was ready to join the other horses in the fields.

“Here you go,” Iain said, returning with his coat.

He slipped into it gratefully, acutely aware of the cold. “Thanks.”

“Walk with us?” his Dad asked, and, seeing that turning him down would be rude and that he might as well face the music now, Alec nodded. Thoughts of Holly’s words — _I miss you_ — would buoy him if need be.

His father whistled and Mick, his Border Collie, came bounding towards them. It was time for their daily round of the stables, which was an extended walk Iain had undertaken every day without fail for as long as Alec could remember. It was hard to tell how many generations of dogs, always the same breed, had accompanied his father. Then, like now, it was a great honour to be asked to accompany him because Iain used the hour and a half the walk took to think.

They walked a good distance in silence, past the indoor and outdoor arenas until they reached the fields. Most horses were out and about, the ones closer to the fence turning towards them as they approached.

“You’re looking better, son,” Iain said eventually.

“I’m feeling better.”

“I’m glad you came here, you know,” his father continued. “I was afraid the job would kill you for good.”

“Aye,” Alec said, surprised at his father’s candidness. “It wisnae the job alone.”

“Ye still havnae learned to open up to others,” Iain said, “but who am I to talk, eh?”

They grinned at each other.

“I have made a friend down there, ye know,” Alec said, “my DS, Ellie Miller.”

“But that’s work,” his father pointed out.

“It’s a bit difficult to make friends outside the force, ye know.”

“Aye. Making friends is a lot easier round here.”

Alec sighed. “Dad. We’ve been through this.”

“I didn’t mean to rub it in. It’s just… a thought. But your Ellie Miller isn’t the woman you keep writing to, eh?”

“No. She’s just a friend. The woman I write to is called Holly Carlisle. She’s a teacher and an artist,” Alec said.

“What happened? You said you’re not on speaking terms,” Iain asked. They kept walking past the fields towards the wood at the foot of the hill.

Alec told him about Holly and Karen but decided not to mention Karen’s age. It was something he was still struggling with, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to get past it entirely. He knew, however, that he would have to if he really wanted to be with Holly.

“Blimey,” was all his father said. They fell into silence again.

“She sent me a sketch,” Alec said. “It was in the post this morning.”

“The rattle stick?” Iain asked. Holly had sent him the sketch rolled-up in a cardboard tube, and the pieces of sea glass had rattled in their bag inside it.

“Aye.”

“D’ye think ye’ll be able to see past the girlfriend?” his father asked.

“Aye. It’s just… suddenly the whole world has become competition where her... affection is concerned. And you know what we coppers are like,” he said.

“Teachers aren’t that different I hear,” Iain said, taking him by surprise. “One of the livery holders is a teacher; she says that if she doesn’t come here to look after her horse she won’t get out at all. Marking seems to be pretty demanding. And what with your Holly being an artist —“

“She’s nae _my_ Holly,” Alec growled. He hated the idea of owning the woman with whom he was in a relationship. But he was also aware of the fact that he was contradicting himself; he was jealous. Or maybe scared was a more accurate description. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover if she, too, left him for someone else.

Iain pursed his lips. “The point is. You’re both busy people. Ye’ll have to make time for each other. Or leave it be.”

“Is that what ye learned from your marriage with Mum?” Alec asked.

His father stopped to turn around and look at the farm. For a while he didn’t speak and Alec almost regretted his words. He still had no idea what had really happened between his parents.

“It is, aye.” Iain looked at him. “And I’m sure ye’ve learned from your marriage to Emma.”

Alec ducked his head. He wasn’t so sure what the lesson from his divorce was. For the moment, he still hurt, and, truth be told, he’d been running from the pain until it tripped him up. It was high time, he supposed, that he faced it. “I’m nae so sure what that is.”

Iain grunted. “It’ll take some time. Just don’t rush into anything with Holly unless ye’re sure what ye want, aye?”

Alec smiled and they continued on their way.

“There’s something about the sketch that won’t leave me alone,” he mumbled eventually. It had been bothering him all day, and he supposed that it was one reason why he’d forgotten to close Ruby’s door.

“What’s that?”

“It looks so familiar. The house she drew. It’s a pencil sketch of the house she lives in. It’s a Victorian semi which she drew from the garden side. It has a gorgeous conservatory and wide, gothic windows,” he said, recalling the sketch in detail. “She uses the conservatory as her studio.”

Iain frowned. “The windows. Are they arched with a pointed apex?”

Alec nodded.

“Her address wouldn’t be in St Andrews Road?”

He looked at him in surprise. “Ye know, I havnae checked.” Thomas’ Cottage was in St Andrews Road.

Iain grinned mischievously and dug his mobile out of his coat pocket. Alec was relieved to see that he actually had it on him. God knew how hard Moray and Mrs Coulter had fought to convince him that taking a mobile was a good idea in case of an emergency. “Jack? What’s the name of the tenant in Thomas’ Cottage?”

Iain looked at him, his eyebrows raised and the corner of his mouth twitching as he listened to his manager. “Just curious, is all. Thanks.”

“Well?”

“The sketch looks so familiar because she lives in Thomas’ Cottage,” Iain said. “Jack let her the flat on the ground floor.”

“What?” Alec gasped. “But no one’s lived there in ages! It’s absolutely miserable there.”

“He did have it touched up before letting it. It’s just to give the place a lived-in feel. Don’t worry, son, she pays the bare minimum, and it even includes gas, electricity and internet,” Iain said.

Alec was lost for words. Holly lived in the house where he’d spent so many of his miserable, lonely childhood summers. He recalled the layout of the flat and remembered playing in the conservatory on rainy days, lying on his back, watching the raindrops patter on the warped glass roof. His room had been on the first floor, the part of the house that stood empty now. He wondered if Holly had gone exploring the house, wondering who’d lived there before her. He wasn’t sure if she’d find much. After Mum’s death his father had had the house cleared of everything.

There was, however, the loose floorboard. The empty space beneath which he’d used as a hiding place for his treasures as he'd grown up. As a young boy he’d left small toys and other things there which he thought the Borrowers might find useful. But he understood soon enough that the Borrowers didn’t want to live in his house, not when his parents were arguing all the time.

“Memories?” Iain asked.

“Aye,” Alec said.

“Well, at least ye’ll have a place to stay when ye go back to Broadchurch. I don’t like the idea of that hotel at all,” he grumbled.

“I can’t. Holly lives there and the upstairs must be uninhabitable.”

Iain gave him an appraising look. “Ye’ve got that from yer Mum. Being so considerate and caring for others. It’s what makes you a great horseman.”

“Or a good copper,” Alec couldn’t help adding.

“Or that. Is there nae chance ye might at least transfer to the Mounted Branch?”

“Broadchurch doesn’t have a Mounted Branch, and I’m in CID now.”

Iain raised his eyebrows and turned, cocking his hip. “So ye’re going to stay with the police?”

Alec frowned. His father had tricked him into making a decision, and voicing it. Iain had always had a knack for this, and Alec wasn’t sure he liked it.

Iain noticed what he’d done and raised his hand in an appeasing gesture. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“Aye?”

Alec wondered if his father would ever be able to tell him how he really felt about his decisions. In all these years they’d never discussed his career choice like two civilised, mature men. It had always been about his father’s disappointment and seeming unwillingness to take his reasons into consideration. All Iain saw, Alec felt, was a waste of talent and the notion that once he retired, Brochwinnie would not be in Hardy hands any more. It didn’t seem to matter much that the stud would be in the very capable hands of his son’s best friend Moray Cairns. 

“I’d like to see ye happy again, son.”

Alec stared at him.

“What? Is that so outlandish a thing to want for your only child?”

“It is for you,” Alec blurted.

Iain took off his hat and scratched his head, as he always did when he needed to buy time. “I’m trying to see why catching thieves and murderers holds so much appeal when you loved working with the horses so much. You’re such a good horseman. And you love it, don’t you?”

“Past tense, Dad,” Alec said softly. “I… I can’t bear the thought of riding any more.”

Iain regarded him carefully. “I have no idea what’s going on in there,” he said, tapping Alec’s chest first and then his head. “Or there. And I have a feeling it’s partly my fault.”

Alec blinked. “What’s brought this on? Ye’re not sick, are ye?”

Iain scoffed. “No.”

“So?”

“So. You and Emma. You made me think. When it dinnae work any more. The choices you made. The choices I made. Seeing Teresa reject you so… it changed my perspective.”

“How?”

“Dear me, son! If ye’re always this dense I really… Well. Teresa reminded me of you when you were her age. You rejected me too.”

“I… I rejected you?” Alec repeated. “It’s more like you rejected me. I couldnae do anything right.”

“I wanted you to grow, to give yer best.”

Alec snorted. “I certainly did. But it was never enough.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Your mother told me. But I never listened,” Iain said.

Alec was lost for words again. This was as close to an apology as his father would get, and he couldn’t help what had this brought on. This was going far beyond his fatherly concern about his broken marriage. Iain was tapping into their history.

“Seeing Teresa so distraught broke my heart. She adores you, Alec. Her world collapsed when you left and when she discovered that her mother had someone else. A woman. Moray, Han and I were very concerned for a while.”

“I had no idea,” Alec whispered.

“It’s nae yer fault. I just thought ye ought to know so you can have a fresh start with her. That article about Sandbrook… I was proud of ye. Am. Proud of ye. D’ye think ye’ll ever be able to catch that bastard?”

“Only if new evidence turns up, but that’s highly unlikely,” Alec mumbled. “It’s nae wonder she dinnae want to talk to me. To her, I was the bad one. But I couldn’t take away her mother. She and Em… they’re so close.”

“Hmm,” Iain grunted. “Not any more. Something between them broke when she found out what really happened.”

 _Which explains her readiness to think about coming down to Broadchurch with me,_ Alec thought.


	12. Twelve

Twelve

_Just in case you couldn’t tell: I miss you too, Holly._

She stared at the words on the postcard and clamped her hand over her mouth. _Of course I could,_ she thought. _But I was so busy hating myself that I couldn’t conceive of anyone being able to do what I couldn’t._

Holly picked up her fountain pen and wrote down her thoughts on a postcard-sized piece of watercolour paper. Flipping it over, she stared at the doodle of a cup of tea she’d done in class. It was surprisingly good, and she wondered if any of her students had caught on to how preoccupied she was and used the chance to sneak a peek at their neighbour’s work. She doubted it. She’d spaced their desks to make it impossible.

She found the last of her stamps in her purse and stuck it on the card. She hoped they’d start communicating properly again, but then she remembered that, so far, they’d always run into each other after a lengthy gap in their conversation. But running into each other wasn’t going to happen this time. Alec was up in Scotland, which was a day’s worth of travel away.

Who was going to take the next step and pick up the phone? When would they be ready for it? She would know when she was ready, but she had no idea when he would.

Slipping into her coat, Holly grabbed her purse, the card and her keys. She wanted to send the card off as soon as possible, and if she was lucky, the postman was running late and hadn’t collected the post yet. On her way back, she could grab a cup of coffee.

Dusk was falling sooner and sooner these days, and she watched the puffs of her breath in front of her in the orange glow of the street illumination. It must be completely dark up in Scotland by now.

Holly tried to picture Alec on horseback, and while she found the idea of him in breeches, or even jodhpurs, and riding boots unbelievably sexy, the image of him on horseback remained elusive. As always when she was frustrated by her imagination letting her down she lengthened her stride.

When she reached the postbox, the man in charge of emptying it had just arrived to empty it, so she dropped her card into the burlap pouch with the rest of the letters and cards. “Thanks, love,” he said, winking at her.

Holly went into the coffee shop to treat herself to a cup and a piece of their carrot cake. It was rich and succulent, and on a day like today Holly was happy to skip tea in favour of it. She also liked the wedge-shaped box into which Darren packaged it for her. Darren was one of the upper-sixth formers in her Art Club, and he chose an extra big piece for her.

“Here you go, miss. Your coffee’s coming up,” he said with a winning smile.

“Thank you, Darren,” Holly said. She’d never get used to being served by pupils working in cafés or at the supermarket, but she’d learned to accept it as part and parcel of living near where she taught.

She paid him and picked up the box and cup to head home. By the time she arrived, darkness had fallen. She should have turned the porch light on; it would have spared her fumbling for her keys. She switched on the light in the porch as she took off her coat and boots.

As she bent to pick her purchases up — she’d almost finished her coffee — she wondered what the upstairs looked like. She’d had a quick look when she first looked at the flat, but since then she’d respected the owner’s privacy. Not that there was much privacy to be violated. The upstairs was empty.

Going up there now was a silly idea. It was pitch dark and she wasn’t sure if the lights even worked. She dismissed the thought and went into the kitchen. As she finished her coffee, inspiration suddenly struck. Unfortunately not about Alec the horseman, but she’d figured out what was wrong with a drawing she was working on. She went into the chilly conservatory to fix it.

Once she was done there — of course it was just a stroke of the pencil in one spot and a touch of the rubber elsewhere that fixed it — she went back into the kitchen. Since she’d done all her prep work at school, she was free to watch the DVD Nate had given her.

But on the way to her bedroom the stairs distracted her again.

She might as well check if the lights worked. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to see if everything was all right. “Better safe than sorry,” she murmured. Besides, if the upstairs was empty checking wasn’t snooping around, was it?

Grabbing her green cardie, she climbed the stairs. It was cold and dark up there, and the air had that stale and dry quality of empty rooms. It was a sad, forlorn smell.

To her surprise, the lights worked. Holly made a mental note to take out the fuses, just to be on the safe side. Looking around, it became obvious that the upstairs wasn’t a flat in its own right. There was neither a front door nor a kitchen. Mr Halloran had turned the downstairs front room into a bedroom, thus making it a flat when, in the olden days, the front room had been what it said on the tin and her lounge had been the dining room. So the upstairs had housed the bedrooms.

The floor plan was similar, but instead of the kitchen there was an additional bedroom. She went to the window and opened the shutters. Below and to her left was the glass roof of the conservatory. If she looked straight down she saw the neglected garden, now a jumble of barren branches, most of them prickly with thorns. The roses that had bloomed there in the summer had been gorgeous, but they were in dire need of pruning. To her right was the roof of the bay window in her lounge.

Holly was about to leave when she saw the remnants of posters stuck to the plain blue wall. Stepping closer, she saw that it must have been a poster of Sean Connery as James Bond. Smoothing her fingers over the yellowed paper, Holly smiled. She loved the Bond movies and it was good to know that a fellow fan had lived here once.

“How old were you, hmm?” she asked into the quiet of the room. She could see her words hang in front of her in the form of little white clouds, and she shivered. She couldn’t imagine that not heating the place was a good idea in the long run. Was the child who’d lived in this room the owner of the house now? And why did he want to let the downstairs only? Surely, remodelling the house as two flats or even as a home for one family would pay off in time when it was sold or let.

Sirens tore through the quiet and made Holly jump. The emergency services must be on the Sea Road, going by the din they were making as they sped towards where they were needed. Please let no one be hurt, Holly thought although she knew that with so many vehicles on their way it was unlikely.

She was about to enter the generous bathroom next to the child’s bedroom when she could hear her mobile ring on the small table in the downstairs hall. Turning off the lights she hurried downstairs, feeling as if she’d been caught red-handed. The sirens had faded into the distance.

“Am I interrupting something?” Robin asked.

“No,” Holly said, trying to get her breathing under control. “I just left my phone in the other room.” Which was almost not a lie.

“Ah. Listen, love. Sit down.”

“In that order?” Holly asked with a smirk.

“No! Come on, hurry!”

She sat on the stairs. “I’m sitting down. What’s up?” She frowned a little because she had no idea what could be so upsetting.

“Grainger’s place is ablaze.”

Mr Grainger taught French, and he wasn’t exactly the most popular teacher or colleague at South Wessex. He was demanding and a bit of a pompous ass. However, Holly hadn’t been on the receiving end of his patronising ways yet, but she had trouble sussing him out.

“Oh,” she said, shocked. No one deserved having their place set fire to. “How do you know it’s his place? I heard the sirens earlier.”

“He lives just down the road,” Robin said, her voice a bit shaky.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“‘Fraid so,” Robin sighed.

“There hasn’t been any arson since Mrs Rudd’s, has there?” Holly asked.

“Nope. It seems our arsonist doesn’t like our profession,” Robin said.

Now Holly was glad she was seated. “Oh dear.” She pictured Thomas’ Cottage burning, with all her things and — all the chemicals she had in the conservatory in the shape and form of paints and other substances she needed. “Are you sure? I mean… is their job the only link between Mrs Rudd and Mr Grainger?”

“I think so, Sherlock. I was wondering… since you’re friends with DS Miller, if maybe you could…?”

“Hang on a tick, Robin,” Holly said. Her rekindled — she cringed at her poor choice of words — friendship with Ellie was still fragile (she’d always been able to get out of a bad metaphor if needs be) but she really didn't want to put it to another test by talking to her about the arsonist. If, indeed, it was arson this time. “What makes you think it’s arson?”

Robin snorted but remained silent for a few beats. “I’ll call you when my brother has had a chance to investigate the place.”

“You do that,” Holly said, but the idea had found its way into her thoughts and it was starting to nest. If the fire at Mr Grainger’s was arson, then it might be a good idea to go through the lists of his classes to see if there was anyone with a serious grudge. Mrs Rudd ought to do the same; as, in fact, ought every teacher at South Wessex, herself included.

“You still there?”

Holly shared her idea with Robin. “Yeah, I think we’d better do that. Unless, of course, there’s something else that links Mrs Rudd and Grainger.”

“I honestly have no idea what that could be, but then I don’t know either of them well enough,” Robin admitted.

“Maybe it’s… it’s more about the location of their homes?” Holly cupped her forehead. “I’m doing it again. Let’s… let’s not jump to conclusions until you’ve spoken with your brother, yeah?”

“Yeah. Listen, love, what are you doing?”

“Nothing. Fancy a drink?”

Robin exhaled in relief. “Yeah, I could do with one.”

Jumping to conclusions about her friend's plans for the night, but truth be told, she was a bit upset herself. “Meet you at the Trader’s in ten,” Holly said, standing.

-:-

The next day, Robin was reduced to a bundle of anxiety. Her brother had confirmed her worst fear, although he’d told her the same thing Holly had. So far, they couldn’t be sure that the arsonist was only targeting teachers. Still, Holly thought it couldn’t hurt to tell Ellie. She decided, however, that it might be better if Robin and she talked to her officially rather than off the record. Ellie was busy, and she didn’t want to jeopardise their friendship. If Robin and their suspicion turned out wrong, then it would be just a dead lead for the police investigations and no harm would be done.

Holly held Robin’s hand as they waited in the downstairs reception area for Ellie to call them up. When she eventually came to collect them personally, Holly thought that she looked like hell. She’d probably been called to the scene very early in the morning and hadn’t been home since.

“Holly,” she said in surprise. “I’m afraid it’s not a good time for coffee, although God knows I could do with a break.”

“It’s not a social call,” Holly said, sorry that she hadn’t thought to bring a cup of good coffee for her.

“It’s not?” Ellie asked, blinking.

“We’re here about the fires at Mrs Rudd’s and Mr Grainger’s,” Robin said.

Ellie’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know we’re treating them as suspicious?”

“My name’s Robin Hobb,” Robin said, holding out her hand. “Rick Hobb’s my brother. A very concerned brother.”

“Plus, teachers _do_ talk to each other in the staff room,” Holly added.

“Right. Why don’t you two come up?” Ellie punched in the code that unlocked the door opening on the inner sanctum of the station and invited them in with a gallant gesture.

Once they were seated in one of the interview rooms — DC Dane was there too, smiling nervously at Holly — Ellie put down a tray with mugs of the nice station coffee in front of them. After they were all set, she started the interview, Dane taking notes.

Holly and Robin shared their ideas on the arsonist with Ellie. “Unless, of course, there’s something else that links Mrs Rudd and Mr Grainger,” Holly added at the end. She wanted to help, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself either.

“We’ve been following that lead, yeah,” Ellie said. “But it’s only one of several possibilities. There’ve been two more incidents with fires — or near-fires — that we’re including in the investigation.”

“Oh?” Robin asked, leaning forwards with her elbows on the table.

“I’m afraid we can’t give you any more details at this point,” Dane said.

Ellie turned and frowned at him. Holly suppressed a grin, although she was well aware of the fact that this was nowhere near funny.

“Basically, he’s right. Is there any reason for you to be concerned? Do you think there’s someone who might want to set fire to your place?” Ellie asked.

“I’ve gone through my lists of pupils,” Robin began. “And there are always some kids who are trouble, but there isn’t one I’d seriously think capable of doing something like this.”

“Hmm,” Dane made.

Ellie looked at her folded hands. Holly knew what she was thinking about. If they could tell what someone had done she’d have found Danny’s murderer a lot faster. “Mr Grainger is not exactly a favourite amongst pupils,” Holly said. 

“What about Mrs Rudd?”

Robin looked at Holly and they smiled at each other. “She’s a dear, but she’s… a bit batty.”

“So there’s no reason a pupil would hate her enough to burn her place down?” Dane prompted.

“I don’t think so, no,” Robin said.

“Well then,” Ellie said. “Thanks for sharing your theories.”

“I’m sorry if we’ve wasted your time,” Holly said.

“Not at all, Holly,” Ellie said, smiling.

Once they were outside in the wintry cold, Holly and Robin linked arms. “Two other incidents, eh?” Robin asked.

“And Rick didn’t tell you?”

“Yeah,” she replied thoughtfully. “I think I might have to make a call.”

“Will it make you feel better? I mean… if he confirms it…” Holly began.

Robin sighed. “I’m scared one way or another, and not knowing is going to drive me crazy.”

-:-

That night, Holly dreamed of Alec for the first time.

They didn’t do anything but hold each other and kiss, and she couldn’t even tell if they were clothed or not. What she did remember, though, was the feeling of warmth and security that went along with it, and the devastating loss when, eventually, they had to let go of each other because of the school bell and a distant whinny.

Holly’s eyes flew open at the powerful emotions, and she felt tears trickle down her temples. She’d come in her sleep before, but never before had she experienced such an overwhelming sadness that she woke up crying.

“Alec,” she whispered into the darkness of her bedroom.

Her phone rang right at that moment. It sounded very loud in the quiet of her flat, and she quickly tried to remember where she’d left it. Going by the volume of the ring tone it must be on her bedside table, but when she finally found the light switch and turned it on, all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut. The ringing, of course, had stopped by that time.

Probably someone who’d gotten the wrong number in the middle of the night, wanting a lift home from clubbing. If it had been something serious, like another fire, she was sure the caller wouldn’t have given up so quickly.

For a few moments she lay there debating whether to get up and check, just in case. She knew that if she did it would be hard to go back to sleep, and she needed to be rested for the next day at school. But, she supposed, it was too late for that already. She might as well get a drink of water while she was up.

Her phone sat on the kitchen table, and when she unlocked the screen to check the missed call she saw that it had been Alec. In the middle of the night? Was he… had something happened to him, to his heart?

The phone was shaking in her hands as she fumbled to find the speed dialling for the voice mail, so she held it in both hands.

“I know it’s late,” he began. “I just… found this and wanted you to have it. Read out, rather than… on a postcard. Anyway,” he said. For a moment she wondered whether she should call him back. What was he doing, awake at this time of night? She checked her watch. It was gone half three.

“ _A Thunderstorm in Town,_ by Thomas Hardy,” he began.

“ _She wore a new 'terra-cotta' dress,_  
And we stayed, because of the pelting storm,  
Within the hansom's dry recess,  
Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless  
We sat on, snug and warm.

 _Then the downpour ceased, to my sharp sad pain,_  
And the glass that had screened our forms before  
Flew up, and out she sprang to her door:  
I should have kissed her if the rain  
Had lasted a minute more.”

There was a pause at the end of the recording, in which he took a deep breath. “Anyway, that's it. Have a lovely day, Holly.” Then he’d hung up.

Holly slumped heavily onto one of the chairs.


	13. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anthology mentioned at the beginning of the chapter is _Penguin's Poems for Love_ , by Laura Barber (ed.), 2009 edition.

Thirteen

Alec finished his glass of water and stared at the page of the book from which he’d read Holly the poem. He’d gotten the volume for Teresa; he’d seen the library copy on her bedside table when she’d invited him into her room to show him her new breeches. It was an anthology of love poetry, arranged by adverb. Accordingly, Thomas Hardy’s poem fell into the _Nearly_ category.

Teresa had admitted, with a lovely blush, that she found the collection wonderful, and he’d decided to get a copy for her. It only occurred to him that it might not be an appropriate gift to his daughter when she tore away the wrapping paper the following weekend.

“I’m embarrassing, aren’t I?” he asked when she stared at the cover, her mouth a round 'O' of helplessness.

“No!” she hurried to say eventually. “It’s just such a surprise. Thank you.” She’d kissed his cheek.

His phone rang, pulling him back into the present.

He stared at the device in disbelief; he wasn’t on duty so he shouldn’t be getting calls in the middle of the night. The feeling was quickly replaced by terror. Something had happened to Teresa or Em. Or there was an emergency at the stables.

He fumbled with the phone as if he’d only had it for a day. “Aye?” he croaked, his throat suddenly dry.

“Hey you.”

He hesitated. “Holly.”

“You’re right,” she said.

He rubbed his eyes. “About what?”

“The poem isn’t right for a postcard,” she said. “Although I’m enjoying them. Thanks.”

Afraid she’d hang up, he hurried to say, dumbly, “You’re awake. Why are you awake at this time of the night?”

“Why are you?”

“There was an emergency. At the stables,” he said. He had yet to get a shower. He smelled of sweat, horse and blood. Yet all he’d been able to think about when he returned to the warmth of his suite was calling her. He’d known his message would probably go straight to voicemail at that time of night, so she wouldn’t have to talk to him if she didn’t want to. But she did want to. She’d called back almost immediately.

“Oh. Is everything all right?”

“Aye,” he said, exhaustion settling in now that the rush of anxiety had worn off. He almost didn’t notice the note of concern in her voice. It sounded genuine rather than just a polite enquiry to keep the conversation afloat. “One of the mares had trouble foaling.”

“Are they safe?”

“Aye.”

She exhaled softly. “I had no idea you were a horse whisperer,” she said.

He frowned. “Why do people insist on calling me that? I’m certainly nae _horse whisperer._ ”

“I’m sorry, I… I have no idea what else to call it.”

“I’m just good with them, is all.”

“Still. It’s a gift. I’ve always found horses to be such gracious creatures,” she said.

“But?”

“But they’re also intimidating. The sheer size of them.”

He laughed. “What about ponies?”

“You know what I mean,” she replied.

“I could show you,” he said, following sudden inspiration. Of course, the words weren’t ready to be spoken yet and he bit his tongue in anger at his rashness.

“Show me what?”

 _You know what,_ he thought. But she was right. He needed to put voice to the idea. “Show you how to treat them. They’re curious, empathic and friendly, if a little bit shy. They even have a sense of humour.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” she said, lowering her voice.

“Really.”

There was a pause.

“Yeah. Of course, they don’t have a stab vest of taciturnity and sarcasm to protect themselves. And they don’t look scruffy.”

“I have nae idea who ye’re talking about.” The last item on her list in particular would not be applicable much longer. He had a barber’s appointment in the morning and planned to shave again. But he needn’t tell her that quite yet.

“They don’t enjoy books and tea and post-coital snuggles. Or mediocre art and long walks.”

“Keep going.”

“They aren’t considerate lovers or good listeners. They don’t write and send love messages to their —”

A pause.

“Aye?”

“To the woman who loves them.”

“Holly,” he began.

“No, it’s… it’s all right. I just wanted to say sorry for what happened that day on the beach. You needed me to support you, not distract you from the case.”

“The case distracted me, not you, Holly. Never you,” he said. Were they really going to discuss this over the phone? “Listen, this is hardly the time nor the medium to talk.”

She exhaled. “I suppose it isn’t. But when is? You’re up in Scotland, and…”

“You’re down in Broadchurch. But listen, really, listen, Holly. That day on the beach I failed to tell you something important,” he said. He wanted to get it off his chest, rather than arrange for either of them to travel.

“Yes?”

Suddenly, it felt wrong to tell her this over the phone for the first time. He wanted to look her in the eye when he said those three words. “I needed some time to think about you and Karen. I’ve had it, and it’s not going to come between us. Your relationship. I mean, I was married and I have a daughter. It’s not like I don’t have a history either.”

“True.”

 _But none that involved underage sex_ were the words that stretched between them, but neither put voice to them.

“I’d love to see you, Holly, but Martin, my doctor, has ordered me to stay here over Hogmanay,” he said. “I was wondering if… if you’d like to join me. Unless you have other plans?” Here he went assuming that she hadn’t made any plans for New Year’s Eve by the beginning of December.

“I can’t. Not for Christmas. I promised Mum I'd go to Mergate. But I’m free afterwards,” she hurried to say.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned like a teenager. “Great! I’ll make arrangements with Mrs Coulter. She’s in charge of the B&B here at Brochwinnie.”

“Will there be anything free that time of year?” Holly asked, pragmatic as ever.

“I have a sofa bed in my suite.”

“Suite?”

“Sounds grander than it is, really,” he said. “Still, it’s better than a hotel room.”

“I loved your place at Becca’s. You’d made it your home,” Holly said.

“That was just a room with a lock on its door.”

“You never got a proper place to stay because you weren’t planning to settle down, were you,” she replied. “What with your heart condition and everything. God, I never asked how you’re doing.”

“Martin has put me on a new kind of drug and it’s working beautifully. I don’t need a pacemaker after all,” he said. “So I’m doing fine. Although some of the other medicine up here is bitter.”

“Oh?”

“I have some issues to resolve with my father. It’s a long story.”

“And it’s late. We both need our beauty sleep,” she replied, giving him a gracious out. But the truth was that while he didn’t want to talk about Iain or Brochwinnie, he didn’t want to stop talking to her.

“No! I mean, you’re right. Place and time and all. I love talking to you. I miss you, Holly.”

“I miss you too. Don’t stop sending me cards even though we’re talking now, yeah?”

He chuckled.

“Send them to my house, though, not the school. Esther’s services are expensive.” She explained about paying the secretary in charge of the teachers’ post in coffee. Alec laughed.

“What’s your address then?” he asked. He picked up a pen. At the same time he wondered why he didn’t just tell her that he knew her address. _Time and place,_ he reminded himself. 

He scribbled it down on the white margin of the newspaper, right next to the nearly solved crossword and sudoku puzzles. He was still bothered by the three blank boxes in the crossword next to the perfectly — and quickly — done numbers puzzle. “Will do,” he said, dropping the cheap blue pen; he’d lost the cap earlier. It must be somewhere under the sofa.

-:-

“Hello, beautiful,” Alec said when he approached Ruby’s box the next morning. She moved towards the front to greet him.

“I’m getting some grooming today, and I thought we might try the same on you, eh? Make ourselves pretty for Teresa?” He carefully raised his hand to touch her cheek. She turned his face into him, encouraging to go ahead. He chuckled lowly, a sound she seemed to like; she swished her tail gently in reply. Alec felt in his pocket for the treat he’d brought her. “Right then. Off to the shower you pop.”

He slipped her headcollar on without difficulty and she allowed him, after some more patting, to take her towards the purpose-built horse showers.

“I called Holly last night, after I got home from the stables,” he said conversationally as he tied her up to get things ready for the shower. She’d rolled in the bedding in her box again so he started by picking the debris out of her mane and tail. He kept chattering to her, and he could see out of the corner of his eye that she was listening closely. Even though her tail hung loosely, he didn’t take her apparent ease for granted, he didn’t take any undue risk.

“She misses me, but I’ll see her again after Christmas. She’s coming here and you’ll finally meet her,” he said, grinning like an idiot. It had been a good idea to come here so early in the morning when they were unlikely to be disturbed or disrupt the others’ routines. He didn’t know how she’d react to bathing, so he wanted to give both of them some space to embark on this new adventure.

When the water was the right temperature, he turned the spray away from them and took her lead in his hand. She pricked her ears at the gentle rush and hiss of the water. Carefully, he directed the spray closer to her, and when she didn’t show any sign of panic, he brought the water between them, aiming for her legs.

“You like that, eh, beautiful?” he asked, spraying higher up her legs. When she still remained calm, he proceeded to her hind legs and then, via her shoulders, to her neck and body. She raised her head, lengthening her neck as if to make sure he reached every spot.

“That feels great, eh? Particularly after such a long time. Just you wait until I get my curry comb and brushes on you,” he crooned.

He shampooed her, taking care to work a frothy lather into her thickening coat. She relaxed, lowering her head and holding still for him.

After he’d rinsed her thoroughly and taken care of the rest of her hygiene needs he took her back to her box, which had been mucked, cleaned and padded with a fresh layer of straw by one of the grooms. “Time for breakfast, Ruby. I’ll see you later in the afternoon, aye?” He ran his hand along her neck and patted her gently. She nudged him with her nose and blew warm air into his face.

“And, how did it go?” Iain asked as he was putting on his coat.

“I think she was so desperate for a bath she forgot to be skittish because it was the first time. Let’s wait and see when we’ll have to do it again,” Alec said.

Iain grinned. “You could take her out for a stroll in the afternoon. Just a little walk.” He raised his hands in an appeasing gesture when he saw Alec’s protest forming on his lips.

“Aye. I might do that.” He checked his watch. “Damn, I have to go.”

“What about breakfast?”

“I’ll get a cuppa at the barbershop,” Alec said. It was too late for tea and toast now. Although Ruby had enjoyed the shower it had taken longer than necessary. Her coat was clean now, but it was a far cry yet from the sheen and gloss he was sure it once had. He was looking forward to grooming her after their walk in the afternoon, just before Teresa arrived.

“Barbershop?” Iain asked. “Ye’re like an old couple, the two of ye.”

Alec ran his fingers through his shaggy-looking hair. He’d had himself let go since the separation from Em. It was high time he made himself presentable again. In a way, getting the haircut and returning to a halfway regular shaving routine meant getting back in touch with his old self.

Em had always said that a makeover was good for the soul, and he wasn’t averse to trying it; he just didn’t want to advertise it to all and sundry by discussing it. They’d see his shorter hair and shaven jaw; no need to talk about it.

He wanted to tell Iain about Holly’s visit but was afraid of more banter. There was only so much teasing he could deal with on an empty stomach.

“Can ye pick up Teresa later?” Iain asked. “Mrs Coulter and I are going through the books in the afternoon.”

Alec smiled. “Sure.” He hadn’t had a chance to pick her up from the station since his father usually beat him to it. Between them, they were teaching her to expect the most courteous behaviour from men. Which wasn’t bad as such; it never hurt to judge men by their manners. He just hoped that they weren't setting up unreasonable expectations in his daughter.

The barber in town was new, gay but not flamboyant, and experienced enough to recognise that Alec didn’t want to engage in small talk after they’d introduced themselves. He worked wonders on his hair. Alec didn’t stop him from giving his scalp a thorough massage. Once or twice Gary couldn’t stop himself from complimenting him on his gorgeous hair.

“I grew it myself,” Alec muttered.

Gary chuckled and carried on. When he took off the cape and dusted him for loose hairs off his shoulders, Alec saw a stranger looking back at him from the mirror. For the first time in ages, his hair seemed tameable.

“What do you think about the beard?” Gary mused, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Doesn’t seem right,” Alec said. “Take it off.”

“As you wish,” Gary grinned, and put on a fresh paper collar and covered his shoulders with a towel.

Alec closed his eyes when he saw Gary handle the sharp straight razor. He should have expected the traditional blade to make an appearance. But when Gary guided the heavy steel over his skin Alec felt safe and allowed himself to relax.

“They don’t feed strangers off the street down at the stud,” Alec said when he looked at himself again in the mirror. It had been a while since he’d seen his jaw and chin smooth. His skin was a touch paler where Gary had removed the hair, and he looked less forbidding.

“A new man,” Gary said. “They’d be a fool not to feed you. There’s barely any flesh on your bones.”

Alec stared at him, not knowing if Gary was flirting. But he had to admit that he was right. He was skinny, because of the exercise he was getting at Brochwinnie. Not that he’d been fat upon his return from Broadchurch, quite the contrary. “Umm,” he began.

“I’m sorry,” Gary said. “Let me just call up your bill.”

There were a few comments on his new look when he sat down for lunch with Iain, Mrs Coulter, Moray, and some of the other staff, but thankfully, they didn’t dwell on it. His success with Ruby and the new arrival in the night gave them plenty to discuss.

After lunch, he followed Mrs Coulter to her office in the guesthouse.

“What can I do for you, dear?” she asked, putting the kettle on. They’d just had coffee, but he’d never seen her without a cup of tea in her office.

“I was wondering about rooms over Hogmanay. I suppose we’re fully booked?”

“Aye,” she said. She rarely needed to turn to the computer’s memory for general information like this. “Why are you asking?”

“Well, my friend Ellie and her boys are coming to stay. Hopefully,” he added.

“Aye, and I’ve given them two rooms. A single to give the older lad some alone time,” she said. “Aren’t they coming any more?”

“No, that’s not it. The thing is, I talked to Holly last night, and she’d like to come to stay as well,” he said.

“Yes?”

He cupped his chin and turned away with one hand on his hip. He’d never thought this could be so difficult. He was a grown man, for Heaven’s sake. “I’m not sure she’ll be comfortable staying in the suite with me. Besides, Teresa’s there too, and —”

“Teresa’s going skiing with Em over Hogmanay,” Mrs Coulter reminded him. “You could put Holly up in the second bedroom of your suite. Or were you thinking of an extra extra room for her?”

“Umm.” He’d totally forgotten about the skiing holiday. But it meant that Teresa was spending Christmas at Brochwinnie. “No, I think that’ll do.” If it turned out they didn’t work after all, Holly would be would want to leave the place, not just the top floor.

“You look a lot better, dear. And it’s not only the clean-up job you got,” she said. “The hollow in your cheeks is less pronounced when your cheeks are smooth.”

He blushed. He actually blushed like a schoolboy. He covered his burning cheek. “Oh, well.”

“There’s been a call for you, dear,” she continued to give him some space. “From DS Ellie Miller with the Broadchurch Police. Said she couldn’t reach your phone.”

He dug in the pocket of his jeans for his mobile. When he pressed the home button, the shiny screen remained dark. Then he remembered. He’d been low on power when he’d called Holly during the night. He must have forgotten to charge it.

“I’ll ring her back.”

“Please do. She said it was a wee bit urgent,” she said with a slightly disapproving tone. “She does know you’re on sick leave, doesn't she?”

“Aye, but I offered. To consult in tricky cases,” Alec admitted.

“Alec, dear. You’re here to get away from all the nasty police work for a while,” she said. Thankfully, she stopped there instead of mentioning Sandbrook and the Latimer case.

“I know,” he grinned winningly, shrugging. “I’ll call her from the suite. And thanks, Mrs Coulter.” He bent to kiss her cheek.

“I wish you would stop calling me that.”

“Sorry, no can do. I’ll see you later. If there’s anything you need from town, let me know. I’m collecting Teresa today.”

In his room, he connected the phone with the charger and waited a few minutes for the battery to charge enough to bring life back to the screen. He didn’t know Ellie’s number, which one day he’d regret more than he did now.

“Ellie,” he said. “How’s life?”

“Bloody hell, Alec,” she groaned. “I’ve been waiting for your call all morning.”

“They keep me busy up here.”

“I can tell.”

“So, what can I do for you?”

“The Former Detectives Club is needed,” she said.

“There’s only one member if I recall correctly,” he replied.

“The one’s all we need. What do you know about arson?”

He scratched the back of head, surprised at the shortness of the hair there.

“Umm,” he began.


	14. Fourteen

Fourteen

Alec watched Teresa in wonder as she set up a Skype account for him so he could communicate with Ellie and her DC more easily. He’d been reluctant to ask her that because she came to Brochwinnie to spend time with him and to unwind, but she’d seemed eager to help. She worked his laptop confidently, really only needing him to come up with a user name and a password. Her slender fingers virtually flew over the keyboard and he made a mental note to ask her if she’d taken a typing class.

“There, all done. Now, don’t be long, Dad,” she said, cupping his smooth cheek to drop a kiss on the pale bluish skin there. “Love the new style, by the way.”

Her words made him flush, and he drew her towards him for a quick hug. Being able to do that was a great privilege, and he meant it when he told her that he hated wasting time. It wasn’t really a waste of time; Ellie needed his help. But he wanted to spend time with his daughter. “Thanks, darling. I’ll make it up to you. How about we go out for dinner? The really nice place in town?”

“Franco’s?” she asked, her eyes rounding.

“The one. If that’s all right?”

“Aye! I’ll need time to prettify. But don’t be too long,” she squealed in delight.

He grinned, his heart thumping in excitement. After she’d skipped away, he made the quick call to book a table for two, then he pulled himself together. He needed to focus on the call to Ellie.

Alec opened the videochat program and initiated the call. His heart was still thumping. He’d never tried video calls via the internet before. Besides, it had been a while since he’d seen Ellie last, or anyone else at the station, for that matter.

“Uh,” Ellie said, her eyes widening when her face appeared on the screen. _She looks a bit stressed,_ Alec thought. _Hopefully it’s just the case._

“Hello, Miller,” he said, aware of the fact that probably half the incident room were watching. Not that he was so popular. He supposed they were just there to gloat.

“Alec?” she asked, puzzled.

“Same old, same old,” he said, trying to recognise as many people as he could in the background. All the faces were familiar, but apart from SOCO Brian who couldn’t pin a name on any of them. He sighed inwardly. Only a very smooth-faced, eager-to-please youth seemed new. _Bloody hell, they’re recruiting children now,_ he thought.

“You—”

“I’ve had a shave and a trim, so what? Look, Miller, as much as I enjoy seeing the gang—” a few snorts there “—I’m in a bit of a hurry. So, what have you got?”

“Yes, right,” Ellie said, blushing a bit. “Absolutely. So. Sir. We’ve had four cases of arson in the past 42 days. The funny thing is that all four fires were caused in different ways: matches, an oven mitt left on a stove, paint thinner and black powder.”

“Black powder?” He frowned. “Seems someone has been on the internet.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Alec rubbed his chin. “Go on.” He had no idea where Ellie was going with this. So far, everything sounded pretty straightforward.

“One of the properties was newly renovated, one couple are undergoing a divorce, and in two cases valuable collections were involved, one of which could be saved,” Ellie went on.

“The classic criteria of suspicious fire,” the kid explained.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Alec grumbled. Although he wasn’t overly familiar with the particulars of arson he wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to recognising motives.

Ellie rolled her eyes, but he had no way of telling if it was directed at him or the DC.

“Where is this going, Ellie? Because the way it looks to me all these people set fire to their homes to pick up the insurance premium,” he growled. He couldn’t believe that she was consulting him because of a textbook case like this. Didn’t they have anything better to do down there than to disturb him? He was recovering from a heart condition.

“They have three things in common.”

Alec snorted.

“Alec, for fuck’s sake,” Ellie stopped, shocked at her language.

 _Interesting,_ he thought. _Frustration levels are high. This case isn’t so straightforward after all._

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“They have a further three classic indicators in common. The fires occurred in the middle of the night, the owners weren’t at home and there were no signs of forcible entry.”

“A locked room mystery,” he mumbled. “They set the fire, or prepared it, and went out. Unless, of course, they are suicidal.”

“Oh no,” the DC replied brightly.

“What’s your name, son?” Alec asked.

“Benjamin Dane.”

“Dane. Get the DS a cup of coffee.”

“What?”

“Can’t you see she looks a bit tired?” Alec said pointedly. He couldn’t imagine how Ellie coped with him. Unless, of course, this was his first day, which, Alec suspected, it was not.

“Yes, Benny, go and get me one too,” Dirty Brian replied, clapping the lad’s shoulder. Dane exchanged glances with Ellie, who nodded. He finally buggered off.

“The chap with the oven mitt on the stove swore he had turned it off. He always keeps the mitts at a good distance from the stove to prevent accidents from happening. Besides, he was done making tea at round six. The fire broke out round ten,” Ellie said.

“Now we’re talking,” Alec said, sitting up in his chair. “Go on.”

“The divorcing couple said independently from each other — and their lawyers confirmed it — that their decision to split up is amicable and that, based on their prenups, there is no reason for either of them to do such a thing. It was agreed that they would sell the house in case of a separation,” Ellie continued.

“It seems that the arsonist is trying out various methods of setting fire,” Alec said. “He obviously knows his victims quite well, given the fact that they each seem to have a classic motive for arson and he’s taking advantage of that.”

Ellie looked at Brian. Their silent exchange appeared to be more familiar to Alec than he remembered, particularly since Ellie had been stunned, if flattered, by his advances on her. But that had been at a time when she and Joe were still together. Apparently, Ellie had revised her opinion of Dirty Brian.

“We can narrow it down even further,” Ellie said.

“So what do you need me for?” Alec asked.

Ellie sighed. Thankfully, most of the eavesdroppers had disappeared after they’d gotten a good look at him, and Dane was obviously still making coffee. So it was just Ellie and Brian in front of Ellie’s screen.

“All of the victims teach at South Wessex Secondary School,” Ellie said.

Alec slumped in his chair. “Fuck.”

Holly.

“Teacher or student?” he asked.

“What?”

“Do you think it’s a teacher or a student who bears a grudge big enough to do such a thing?” Alec asked.

“What makes you think it’s a teacher?” Brian asked.

“Why couldn’t it be?”

Ellie suppressed a grin. Dane arrived with their coffees, but Brian waved him away almost immediately after he’d set the mugs down in front of them.

“So it’s about revenge,” Alec said. “The valuable collections are a no-brainer, so is the renovated house — I’m assuming the owner is a DIY man—”

“Woman. Nyssa Nagra, music teacher,” Ellie interjected.

“And the divorcees are supposed to take it out on each other. Only their separation is civil and on mutual grounds, which the arsonist did not know,” Alec said.

“So probably not a teacher, or at least not one who really knows his colleagues as well as he thinks he does,” Ellie said.

“What makes you think it’s a man?” Brian asked.

“What?”

“You referred to the arsonist as a he.”

“For heaven’s sake, Brian, I have to use some kind of pronoun,” Ellie groaned.

Brian grinned.

“Kids,” Alec said, rolling his eyes. “You have a point, though. The sex of the arsonist is of interest.”

“A colleague might also have access to the keys,” Brian said. “More easily, at least, than a pupil.”

“Have you checked if these teachers have separate key rings for school and home?” Alec asked.

Ellie paled.

Brian’s phone rang and he excused himself.

“Get to it,” Alec said.

“Dane and a few others are going through the class lists as we speak to see if the four victims have any pupil in common with whom they’d had problems in the past,” Ellie said.

“If you’ve got one, see who else teaches the kid and has problems with them,” Alec said. “See if their personal circumstances offer anything as interesting for the arsonist as the first four victims did. I’d like to be able to warn potential future victims.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ellie said. She bit her lip. “We might want to warn Holly.”

His heart sank. “Aye. Although she doesn’t advertise her past to all and sundry and she hasn’t been at South Wessex long enough to generate any ill-will.”

“You never know, it might be someone who’s easily offended. And since they’re obviously so well-informed I wouldn’t put stalking past them,” Ellie said.

Alec sighed. “Of course.”

“She’s very passionate about her art, isn’t she? And she has paints and paint thinners and all kinds of stuff at her place,” she continued.

He chewed the inside of his cheek. “The place where she lives. It’s mine.”

“What?”

“I’ve rented her the ground-floor flat,” Alec said. “Well, Jack Halloran did. He works for my father, manages the stud and all the properties. I had no idea he’d rented the flat to Holly until a few days ago. It’s a Grade II Listed Building.”

“I see,” Ellie said.

“Shit,” Alec said, rubbing his hands over his face. Just when he’d thought things were looking up.

“We’ll keep an eye on the house. Might it be a good idea for her to have the locks changed?” 

“Yeah. And advise all the teachers to keep a close eye on all their sets of keys from now on,” he said. “Dirty Brian or the fire investigators haven’t come up with anything special, have they?”

Ellie shook her head. “Not so far, no.”

Alec sniffed. “Seems like an inside job to me. Someone who’s very familiar with both worlds.”

Ellie laughed. “Great minds and all that.”

“So, how are you doing?”

“Getting my divorce on its way,” Ellie said, sighing. “Plus I’ll have to be in court some time before Christmas.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Ellie.”

“Yeah.”

“No, I really am.”

“It’s not your fault, Alec.”

“If I hadn’t discovered him—”

“They’d have tarred and feathered us sooner or later. Well, probably just me. You’d have died of a heart attack before that,” she said.

He grinned. “Speaking of hearts. Have you and Dirty Brian gone for drinks lately?”

Ellie blushed.

“Good for you, Ellie.”

She smiled softly. “I’m not sure. It’s all a bit fast.”

“Then slow him down. If he’s a decent bloke, he’ll give you time. He knows what you’ve been through — _are_ going through — after all, eh?”

-:-

“You’re miles away, Dad,” Teresa said.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said, attempting a smile. She was right. He’d been worrying about Holly and Ellie, and how his last two cases had managed to destroy two families. Cases usually destroyed families, and one of these families was his own.

“Then tell me about it.”

“Was life with me really so miserable?” he asked. “Before I left?”

Teresa’s eyes widened and she dropped her fork into her risotto.

“I shouldn’t ask you things like that. It’s not right,” he said. “I’m sorry, darling.”

She sipped her water. “The Sandbrook case was horrible. When you and Mum were working I practically lived at Moray and Han’s, but when you were off, you were absent-minded and you nearly smothered me. It was a bit much, in both ways.”

“I see,” he said.

“But it was okay, because I knew you were catching a murderer. We were scared, you know,” she continued.

“We?”

“Siobhan, Ally and I. We… still are, because you didn’t catch him after all,” she said softly, staring at her congealing meal. It was a mushroom risotto that smelled like the forest and a trip to a cheese dairy.

“Teresa,” he sighed, reaching for her across the table to tip her chin up with a gentle touch. “Look at me.”

The concern, if not exactly abject horror, in her eyes was genuine. “He won’t do it again. His motive was pretty unique, and I doubt that he’d do it again. Besides, I’m sure that the locals have the case on the back burner, just in case more evidence turns up.”

“Does that happen?”

“From time to time, aye, it does,” he said, smiling winningly at her.

“But you’d still like to find him, eh?”

He laughed. “Of course.”

“Sorry, Dad, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I take the Sandbrook case personally, because of you, darling. For a while we thought that the murderer would repeat what he’d done,” he said.

“We?”

“Mum and I.”

“Why did she have to do this to us?” she asked. “I don’t understand it.”

“I don’t either,” he sighed.

She picked her fork up and ate a few bites in silence. “She does love you, though, Dad.”

“What?”

“She told me. She told me she still loves you, but I suppose it’s not enough,” she said.

“I still love her too,” he said. It was the truth. He’d never stopped loving Em, but his love had probably not been enough for her and vice versa. 

“But you won’t get together again, will you?” There was no hope in her voice or in her eyes.

“No. Mum has Flo now, and…”

“Aye?” she looked up with interest.

“I have someone too. Her name is Holly. She’s coming to stay with me over Hogmanay,” he said.

“Oh! But I’m going skiing with Mum and Flo,” she said, her face falling as she remembered her trip.

Alec ducked his head to hide a smile and a sigh. “We’re just getting back together, darling. It might be a bit soon to introduce you.”

Teresa frowned. “But she knows I exist, aye?”

“Oh, aye, she does,” he said.

“Does she have children?”

“None of her own. She’s a teacher,” he said.

“Really?”

He nodded. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just… A teacher, Dad.”

“So? Others might feel the same about having a copper for a step-whatever.” He was getting ahead of himself.

“Yeah, that’s true. I just never,” she began. “When you were a wee lad, did you ever think of your teachers as actual human beings? You know, with a family and their own mum and dad, and a _life_?”

He laughed. She had him there. “Not really, no. But believe me, they do.”

Teresa smiled. “What subject does she teach?”

“Subjects. English and Art,” he said. “The picture of the mug and Thomas’ Cottage are hers.”

“Oh! English makes her interesting. I can’t even draw a decent stick man,” she said.

“Must have gotten that from your old Dad,” he grinned, sipping his lemon soda. It was an Italian import that was made of actual lemon juice and even with bits of fruit flesh floating in it, and some carbonated water added. The drink was bittersweet and refreshing.

“What, my lack of drawing skills or the bookworm thing?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

He took a bite of his pasta, smiling around the tines in his mouth. “Both,” he chuckled, removing the fork.

They finished their meal in companionable silence.

“When are you going to ride Ruby?”

He looked up at her. “I’m not going to ride her,” he said gently. She knew he was never going to sit on horseback again, so it was a bit of a mystery why she’d raise the topic. “But I’m going to take her for walks. Or you could ride her when she’s ready.”

“Why are you taking care of her if you’re not going to ride her?” she asked.

“Teresa,” he began, but then their dessert arrived; they shared a dish of panna cotta. Given the generous helpings of pasta and risotto earlier, they’d thought it might be a good idea not to get a dessert each. And right they were. The chef had decorated the panna cotta with lots of fruit.

“Well?” she asked as the first bit of cooked cream and vanilla melted on his tongue.

“I’m nae going to kill another horse.”

When she frowned this time, it was a genuine one that wrinkled her nose. It would have been cute if she weren’t so serious. “That’s _glaikit_ , Dad.”

“I’m not going to ride Ruby. Or any other horse,” he said, ending the sentence with a finality that brooked no argument. He’d allowed her to wrap him around her little finger but now he'd had enough.

“Has Grandpa asked you to mention this?” he asked despite himself.

“No,” she said defiantly. “I can think for myself, thanks very much.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Teresa. It’s just that everyone seems to assume that I’m going to stay.”

“Tell them,” she said in a tone that made her annoyance at the complications of adult life obvious.

“Aye, I think I will.”


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict Cumberbatch does NOT read any of the AudioGo Bond novels. I just couldn't use DT's performance. I blame BC's appearance in this chapter on his performance of Islington in _Neverwhere_ , which I'd listened to before writing. The French comedy _Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis_ does exist, however, and I warmly recommend it to you if that's your cup of tea.

Fifteen

“If any of you think of something that might help us find the arsonist please do not hesitate to contact me, or anyone else on the incident team. Thank you,” Ellie said, sitting down next to Mrs Robinson, the head teacher.

Ellie had grown noticeably more confident as she spoke to the staff of South Wessex of the arsonist. It hadn’t been too long since she and Alec had been here to hold the press conference about Danny Latimer, and most of the staff felt that if they never had the police on the school grounds again it would be too soon. There had been one or two snide remarks about Ellie as the investigating detective; some of Holly’s colleagues were unable, or unwilling, to be professional. It was understandable that they found it hard to reconcile her role as investigating detective with that of the unwitting wife of a pedophile murderer. They had even challenged Ellie with some rather childish questions, which she had answered with bravado.

“Can I call you later?” Holly asked. “Just for a wee chat, nothing to do with the case.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ellie said, a warm smile replacing her professional distance.

Holly smiled in return and then joined the Cinema Club who were waiting impatiently by the door, eager to get out of the building and have a drink. They decided to go to the Trader’s Inn because it was quiet and there wouldn’t be too many people hanging about to overhear their conversation.

“So it’s just as we suspected. Someone’s targeting us,” Robin said, wrapping her fingers around the squat whisky glass as soon as Nathan set it down in front of her. Her fingers stopped shaking as they found purchase on the glass.

Maude was combining her home and school keys onto a single ring. It was a hefty bunch and she rattled it with a sceptical expression. “Nah, do not like,” she said, pulling them apart again. “I wonder who’s paying for the new locks.”

“We are, I suppose,” Nathan said, pulling up a chair for himself. “Priorities, ladies.” He raised his own glass of whisky.

They clinked glasses and Holly sipped carefully at hers. The Scotch was strong, and it left a fiery trail down her throat. It warmed her almost immediately and, once the fire had died down, left her mellow. She leaned back in her chair.

“I don’t even know if I can have the lock changed without discussing this with my landlord first,” Holly said.

“I don't think that’s going to be a big problem. He'd want to protect his property,” Nathan said. “Also, you haven't been here long enough to piss any of the students off. So, technically speaking, you’re off the hook.”

“What?” Holly frowned.

“You don’t own the place. The arsonist seems to be well-informed on his victims’ background and circumstances,” Nathan said.

“Revenge?” Holly suggested.

“Oh come on, love,” Nathan scoffed. “What for?”

“Well,” Holly said, staring at the dark amber liquid in her glass. “If they know about Karen I think they’d have a pretty good reason. To get back at me rather than punish the landlord.”

Maude pursed her lips. “You have a point there.”

“So, are you going to move your paintings to a safe place? Without telling anyone?”

“Apart from us, of course?” Robin asked.

“I wouldn’t know where to put them to be quite honest,” Holly said.

“Yeah,” Nathan said, finishing his whisky. “So who do you reckon is the arsonist? Pupil? Colleague?”

“I can’t say, I haven’t been here long enough,” Holly shrugged.

“There are a few pupils I can think of who are capable of such a thing,” Maude said.

“Really? Who?”

They went on to discuss pupils Holly knew only by reputation. “Do any of them know us well enough to divert police attention to victims?” Rose wondered. “What if it’s an alumnus? They might know the staff well enough, particularly outside school. Sports or other activities might have created social occasions in which people loosen up round each other.”

“Sherlock, Sherlock,” Nathan grinned. “Have you talked to the police yet? DS Miller?”

“We have,” Robin said.

“But this is a new theory,” Holly said.

“It does make sense, though,” Maude said. “I enjoy chatting to former pupils once they’ve moved on to uni or a job.”

“I’m sure Ellie has thought of it,” Holly said.

“Ellie?” Nathan asked, raising her eyebrows.

“We’re friends,” Holly shrugged.

“Who’s friends with the police?” Nathan mumbled.

“Who’s friends with a teacher?” Maude retorted. “I think we should all go home now.”

“What about that film we’ve been talking about watching for ages? What’s it called, something French,” Nathan protested.

“ _Bienvenue chez les Ch’tis_ ,” Maude said. “Yeah, we could watch that. At yours?”

Nathan grinned. “And I’d thought I’d cleaned the place for naught.”

-:-

Holly didn’t join them for the film. She had promised Ellie a call to take her mind off things for a while. Eventually Holly ended up at Ellie’s, eating a piece of still-warm apple cake.

“I needed to do something when I came home. Something mindless, but I didn’t want to tackle painting the kitchen. I’m not that high-strung,” Ellie said, tucking her legs under herself on the sofa where they sat facing each other.

“My mother wouldn’t say baking is mindless, but I know what you mean. I haven’t made a cake in ages. I’m not even sure where my baking tins are.”

“Baking is something I took up when Joe took over the kitchen duties,” she said, breaking off a piece of cake to pop it into her mouth. “Well, I’ve got it back now. But I… I sometimes miss his cooking.” Holly saw tears welling up in her friend’s eyes. “Well, I say sometimes. I miss his cooking all the time. He was… he was the perfect stay-at-home dad.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Holly said.

“Can I ask you something? About Karen?”

Holly looked away briefly. She still didn’t find it easy to talk about Karen, but she had a feeling that this wasn’t so much about Karen but about being in a relationship with someone so young. Hopefully, she’d be able to explain to Ellie that her relationship with Karen had been entirely different from what Joe and Danny had had. 

“Yeah,” she said, taking a bite of cake.

“What is that makes children so attractive?” Ellie asked.

“Well, I suppose they’re eager to please and at a certain age they’re curious about their sexuality. But, Ellie,” she said, “that kind of relationship is not one of equals. The adult is taking advantage of the child’s eagerness and vulnerability. Karen was much older, and quite mature. Ours was a genuine relationship between equals. We understood each other.”

Ellie rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I’m still struggling to understand what happened. Joe isn’t exactly forthcoming with explanations. He claims he can’t explain it.”

“That’s lazy,” Holly mumbled.

“Yeah, right? All I want is to understand,” Ellie said, dropping her hand from her forehead to the backrest of the sofa in defeat. “Is it the fact that they can form the children? Turn them into someone who will please them, no questions asked, because they want to be loved?”

“I suppose so. It’s definitely about power. I’m not sure it’s very satisfying. On the emotional level, I mean,” Holly said.

“So you and Karen. That was love?”

“Yeah.”

“Joe claimed the same thing. Said he wanted to protect the boy. Mark isn’t always easy to be round, but I can hardly believe he beat Danny,” Ellie said.

“Danny’s death is like Russian dolls, isn’t it? You peel one layer of questions away, and there’s another one just below. Being a copper must be hard.”

“It is, sometimes. But this is personal, and… and it’s beyond description. For the first time I see what a horrible crime does to the victims and their families and friends. It’s little wonder that Alec had such difficulty coping with Sandbrook and this case.”

“Did Sandbrook concern him on a personal level?” Holly asked, frowning.

“No. It was just about his professional pride and what the case did to his family. I’m glad that he agreed to the interview with Maggie to put things right with his daughter. She’s a lovely girl.”

“I imagine she is.”

“How are things between you and Alec?” Ellie asked.

Holly smiled. “I’m going to Brochwinnie over Hogmanay to see him.”

“Oh, that’s great. I was feeling a bit guilty for declining his offer again,” Ellie said.

“What? Why? He said you’d be there too. You and the boys.”

“Yeah, well, my parents insist we stay at theirs, and frankly, I think it’s a good idea. It’s familiar surroundings and Tom adores his grandparents. It’ll be good to get away from it all for a while. And to be quite honest I want my Mum,” Ellie said.

Holly smiled. It was amazing that a woman like Ellie needed a shoulder to lean on and that she openly admitted it. “I think that’s a great idea. Alec will understand.”

Ellie gave her a look. “I don’t want to tag along with you lovebirds. I’m sure you’ll have better things to do than babysit the lot of us. Besides…”

“Oh?” Holly asked, sitting up straighter.

“Speaking of babysitting. I might leave the boys with them on their own for a few days. There is someone I’d like to get to know better. Sounds awful, doesn’t it?”

“No, I think it sounds good. You’re moving on. Just make sure you’re not moving too fast. May I ask who it is?”

“It’s Brian Young, he works in Forensics.”

“So technically, he’s not a policeman?”

“No, which is good because we won’t have to work together that much, which is a good thing. I hope,” Ellie said.

“I used to think a teacher would be best for me, you know. He understands what kind of work we do and when we do it. But instead I had an affair with a business man and now I have a detective. Hopefully.”

“I’m sure you have him. It’s a matter of whether you want him. He certainly does. Want you,” Ellie said.

Holly smiled. “It’s good to know that, thanks. There is something I have to tell you. It concerns the arsonist. I know I promised not to talk about it, but I’ve had this idea and I promised the Cinema Club to run it past you.”

Ellie sighed. “Go ahead.”

“We were wondering if maybe the perpetrator is an alumnus, or a former teacher, come to think of it.” She quickly explained her idea.

Ellie sighed. “That doesn’t exactly narrow it down, but thanks for sharing. This case is turning out to be a nightmare. Again. I don’t really want to find out, on a personal level, whodunnit. I’m afraid of what we’ll uncover.”

Holly gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I know. Some of the staff were pretty rough on you today, weren’t they?”

“I’ll live. I know up here,” she tapped her temple, “that I haven’t done anything wrong. Even Joe says so every time I see him. But in here,” she touched her chest, “well, things look different. There should have been something to give me pause.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Ellie,” Holly said. “I know it hurts your professional pride, but second-guessing won’t do you any good.”

From upstairs, they heard Fred wail and cry for his mummy. Ellie cupped her forehead with her hand in exasperation.

“I think I’d better go. It’s late anyway,” Holly said. She should get out of Ellie’s hair. She needed to be able to take her time with little Fred without worrying about a guest sitting in the lounge.

“Thanks, Holly. It was good to talk to you. Give Alec my love when you talk to him, yeah?”

Holly felt her face warm.

-:-

It had been a long, busy day, and she’d forgotten about Alec’s daily card until she turned into St Andrews Road at eleven that night. Holly quickened her step. She was tired, but she’d reached that over-tired point where she knew she wouldn’t fall asleep easily. “I’ll draw myself a bath, put on my new audio book and have a glass of wine. After I’ve read his card,” she muttered to herself, smiling.

_It’s getting cold up here, and the world is covered in hoarfrost. Walking with Ruby in the misty confectioner’s landscape is sublime._

A quarter of an hour later, Holly was luxuriating in the hot bubbles, sipping her wine and listening to Benedict Cumberbatch’s silken voice read a Bond novel. Frankly, she didn’t care too much about the plot at this point. His voice transported her to a happy place. Of course, he didn’t sound Scottish at all, and he lacked that particular warmth she was after, but he did a good job, and that was all she wanted. The wine helped her relax too, and before long she grew drowsy.

“Sorry, Ben, but I’ll listen to you tomorrow, when I’m knitting Alec’s scarf,” she said, reaching for the CD-player on the windowsill behind her to turn it off. She washed her hair, scrubbed her skin pink and shaved the stubble off. When she reached the plump lips of her pussy, she brushed against her clit not quite so accidentally. A nice orgasm might do the trick and ensure a good night’s rest. She shaved quickly to get to the nice part, and she nicked herself when her phone rang. 

Holly groaned. Whoever it was could wait. It was rather late to be calling.

Wait.

That was Alec’s ringtone. 

She’d never catch him, not with wet feet. When she reached her phone a few minutes later, she found that Alec had left her a voice message. “Hello, Holly. It’s… umm… a bit late to call, I know. Now,” he chuckled. “I’ve just checked the time. Sorry. It’s been a long day and I really wanted to talk to you. Anyway. I miss you. Sweet dreams.”

Without thinking, she drew up his number and hit the green button. Alec answered instantly. “Holly!” His voice carried the joy of talking to her.

“Hey, you,” she said, padding to her bedroom where it was warmer than in the hall. “Sorry I didn’t answer the phone straight away.”

“It’s pretty sensible this time of night.”

“Yeah, but you have a special ringtone,” she said as she pulled some thick socks out of the tightly packed drawer and watched three other pairs fall out. She had knitted the socks herself from possum yarn she’d found at a car boot sale. There was so much that she could make Alec the warm scarf and a beanie for Christmas.

“Oh?”

Holly laughed, leaving the socks and repairing to the love seat she used as a reading cave. “How are you?” She started putting on the socks.

“I’m all right. It’s lovely to hear your voice. How are you?”

Holly tucked the tip of her tongue into the corner of her mouth. Should she be sensible, or naughty? It really depended on his mood. “I was in the bath. And I cut myself.”

There was a brief silence. “Where?” He knew about her shaving habits, of course.

“Between my legs,” she said.

“I’d kiss it better if you where here,” he replied softly, lowering his voice a notch.

“Oh.”

“I love kissing you there.”

“Keep talking.”

“I love kissing you everywhere, Holly. Ye taste so good. Ye’re a good kisser,” he said.

“Reminds me of a lover I had,” she said, gnawing the back of her knuckle.

“Does it now?”

“Yeah. He’d literally lose his senses when I made him come.”

There was a brief pause. “It’s nae funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be funny. I took it as a compliment. Speak of mind-blowingly beautiful.”

“That’s you, when I kiss your pussy,” he said. “When I make you come. Ye’re so beautiful, Holly.”

She blushed. “I want to come. Now. It’s been a long day.”

“I promised I’d kiss you better, didn’t I?”

Holly burrowed into the love seat and her fluffy towel. “I’ll return the favour.”

“Not tonight. Imagining you will do the job nicely. Where are you?”

“In my bedroom, in my love seat.”

“Perfect. Wearing a robe?”

“A towel. And socks.”

There was a soft groan. “Lovely. Show me where you cut yourself. Open your legs for me, love.”

Holly propped her left leg against the cushion, allowing her legs to fall open. She sucked in a breath as she felt the comparatively cool air against her sex.

“Put me on speakerphone and close your eyes, love,” Alec said softly. “I’m kissing your pussy now. Can you feel my lips on yours?”

“Oh yes,” Holly said. “They’re soft. And I can feel your beard against the skin of my thighs.”

There was another short pause. “I’m nibbling carefully on one labia,” he said. 

Holly tugged at it, massaging it between her thumb and forefinger, humming at the sensation.

“And the other.”

She moved her fingers to the other side, subjecting it to the same treatment. She even pinched it gently with her short nails, imagining his teeth. She sighed.

“That good?”

“Oh yes.”

“I’m flicking my tongue against your clit. God, Holly, you taste so good,” he groaned.

“Are you hard?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Aye.”

“Tell me. Where are you? What are you wearing?”

“On the sofa in the lounge. I was just about to get changed, but I’ve got my… cock out.”

Holly pictured him in a pair of jeans and a pale blue shirt, his belt and buttons undone, the material of his pants and jeans shoved down so he could touch himself.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m… Holly, damn it, this is about you,” he growled.

She chuckled. “You let me distract you.”

“Fuck, Holly!”

“Yeah?”

“I want to be inside you. Your mouth, your pussy. At the same time.”

“Imagine it. I imagine,” she moaned as she pushed three of her fingers inside herself, “your fingers inside me. They’re so long and beautiful. Alec.”

“Aye?”

“Imagine my tongue around your cock,” she said, wanting to include him in their game. She’d never been good at phone sex. They needed to get off, and there was no finesse involved. She clamped her legs closed, her hand pressed between them. The pressure sent ripples of pleasure through her.

“Holly,” he moaned.

“I’m swirling it around its head. You don’t taste half-bad yourself,” she said. “I’m licking off the pre-come.”

“Holly,” he groaned. “Not… fair.”

“I’m sucking you,” she continued. The memory of his slick, soft skin in her mouth washed over her and she sighed. He felt so good. 

“But I… I can’t… Christ, Holly!” he cried.

She smiled, listening to him coming. She closed her eyes, picturing him, the tendons in his throat straining, his eyes closed and his teeth bared as he groaned. She imagined holding him and kissing any part of him that she could reach. “You’re so beautiful, Alec. Keep coming for me, love. I’ve got you.”

She listened to his heavy breathing, smiling softly to herself.

“Minx.”

“You enjoyed that.”

“I wanted to make you come, damn it,” he growled.

“I’m still here,” she said.

“Open your legs for me,” he said, his voice gravelly from his orgasm.

Holly let her thighs fall open again, and she gasped again as the cool air brushed over her damp flesh.

“Talk to me, Holly,” he said.

“I’m so wet,” she said. “You made me wet.”

His grin was audible over the phone. “Push your fingers in, and hold them tight. Do you know that you’re incredibly tight, Holly? I love being inside you.”

Her fingers slid in and she tightened her muscles around them. “I love having you inside me,” she sighed, then, as her thumb found a particularly good angle on her clit, she cried out. Ripples of pleasure travelled from the centre of her being outwards, leaving warmth in their wake.

“I love that sound,” he crooned. “Touch your breast. I miss their softness, their perfect shape. And sucking on your nipples. The skin there tastes pink.”

Holly brushed the towel aside with an impatient gesture and cupped her breast, pinching her nipple into a hard point. At the same time, she started moving her fingers and her thumb between her legs.

“Alec…” she sighed, twisting a little in her seat to reach even deeper inside herself. She wished she had her vibrator, but then that would be cheating. She wanted to come because of her imagination and his voice.

“I’m sucking on your other nipple, Holly.”

“More, please, Alec,” she moaned. “Let me go, please, let me go.”

“I want to kiss you, love. I want to feel your tongue against mine. Taste you,” he said softly.

“So close.”

“I’m moving down your body. I love the smell of your soap on your skin. It’s so soft. I can’t get enough of the skin of your pussy. So smooth, so soft. I’ve got to taste it…”

With another few flicks of her thumb over her clit Holly curled her fingers inside her and came with a small cry. Her toes curled as she arched off the cushion and the world went quiet around her for a few beats.

“I’ve got ye, love, I’ve got ye,” he said gently through the rush of blood in her ears.

She took a few deep breaths, giggling in between them. “Are you laughing?”

“Smiling,” he said. “A lad can be proud, cannae he? How are ye feeling?”

Holly stretched and burrowed into her armchair, drawing the towel over her body for warmth. “So good. That was so good, Alec. Thanks.”

“I wish I were there to hold you.”


	16. Sixteen

Sixteen

Alec had a quick breakfast of tea and a triangle of toast and sneaked out past Mrs Coulter. He wasn’t in the mood for company; he was still enjoying the remnants of his orgasm and the good night’s sleep he’d gotten as a result of it. He missed Holly, and once again he couldn’t wait for Christmas to be over. As a boy he’d always been glad when the festivities passed quickly; Christmas at Brochwinnie had never been easy. This year, of course, he was excited for different reasons. For the first time in a long time, perhaps ever, he was looking forward to it. He liked life at Brochwinnie now, and he was glad that Em had agreed to Teresa spending the holiday with her old Dad and grandfather. But he wanted Holly with him.

Alec was giving Ruby a brush before he tried putting the bridle and saddle on her. She trusted him and had been very good on their walks. It was time to reacquaint her with the equipment so that, hopefully, someone would be able to ride her soon. Teresa had been eager to offer, and although he trusted her skills and her manners as a horsewoman, he wasn’t quite sure if he could trust Ruby. Since he hadn’t asked the former owners about her history he had no idea if there had been any problems in that regard before she came to Brochwinnie.

He could, of course, always ask his father. But that would inevitably lead to a lengthy discussion of his reasons for not riding any more. He wasn’t ready for that yet.

“ _You can’t always get what you want,_ ” he hummed, and the singing earned him Ruby’s full attention. He’d never hummed or sung in her presence before, so what he did with his voice was fascinating and new to her. “You like that, eh, my beauty?” he asked, rubbing her neck in two long strokes of his palm. 

Moray and Teresa joined him in the stables just as he was finished with grooming Ruby.

“ _But if you try sometime, well, you might find/You get what you need,_ ” Moray finished the lyrics for him. “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”

Alec ducked his head and bent to pick up the caddy holding Ruby’s grooming things.

Ruby shifted her weight and turned towards the new arrivals. She nickered a brief greeting and allowed Teresa to pat her neck.

“Ye should be singing _Ruby Tuesday,_ ” Moray said.

“Nah,” Alec said, straightening. “She isnae like that.”

“What is it you want, Dad?” Teresa asked.

He looked at her for a brief moment. “I would like for Ruby to accept her bridle and saddle so you can ride her later this afternoon. She’s a bit bored with the walks.”

“Why don’t you ride her then?” Moray asked. The bastard did it with all the nonchalance he could muster, as if he wasn’t fully aware of why Alec wasn’t going to get back in the saddle again.

Alec didn’t dignify his question with a reaction of any kind. “Let me just get them. One of the stablehands gave the leather some TLC yesterday.”

When he returned and started to get Ruby ready for an outing, just a walk with her saddle on, all three of them were surprised how readily Ruby allowed the mouth piece and the saddle to be put in place.

Alec fed her a small treat and whispered to her.

“Are ye coming? It’s just a quick walk,” Alec asked Teresa, reaching for his coat and slipping on his leather gloves.

“Aye,” she said.

He smiled and took the reins to lead Ruby out of the stables. Of course, his plan hadn’t stayed a secret, so when he exited the stables there were quite a few people waiting in the yard to watch Ruby’s progress, including Iain and Mick. Everyone remained quiet so as not to startle the mare, but they smiled and nodded at Alec.

He couldn’t help feeling proud at his accomplishment, but at the same time he didn’t want to take more credit than he deserved. He’d been patient and persistent, almost doggedly so. The same traits that made him a good copper.

Once they had left the courtyard, he and Teresa fell into an easy companionable silence and enjoyed the crisp, misty December morning. There was no need to talk, even as he handed over the reins to Teresa so she and Ruby could get to know each other better. At one point they stopped so he could adjust the girth, but he found that it was barely necessary; Ruby hadn’t held her breath when he’d saddled her.

“What would you like for Christmas, Dad?”

“I haven’t thought about it, really,” he said. “I have no idea. And ye don’t have to give me anything. I’m glad that you’re here for Christmas.” _Instead of the city with Em and Flo and their cool friends and your own friends._

“I want to be here, with you, Dad,” she insisted. “Why can’t you parents ever come up with a proper answer to this question?”

He frowned.

“You always ask for nice, well-behaved children, or you say you don’t need anything. But I want to give you something to make you smile. Something other than good marks or a school concert,” she added.

“I’m just glad to have ye back. I’m very grateful for that.”

Teresa was quiet for a few beats and all they could hear was the hollow clacking sound of Ruby’s shoes on the lane cutting through the empty pastures. 

“There was a book fair a couple of weeks ago. I picked up a guidebook on Scotland, and one of Wessex. They are both from the nineteenth century,” he said. “They’re actually very entertaining to read. The Scotland one at least.”

“What about the one about Wessex?” Teresa asked, humouring him.

“I sent it to Holly. She moved to Broadchurch fairly recently, and I thought she’d enjoy learning about its history.”

“Ah. What does the guidebook say about Brochwinnie?” Teresa knew, of course, of the long tradition of the Hardy stud.

“I’ll show ye later. The point is, I’d like more guidebooks like them.”

Teresa smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“But listen, darling, don’t spend too much on your old Dad, aye?”

“I owe you two Christmas and one birthday present.”

“You,” he said, bumping her shoulder with his arm, “don’t owe me anything.”

They had reached the end of the pastures. Open fields began and a couple of hundred metres further along the lane the forest began. Of course, the forest was nothing but a dark mass looming in the white mist that rose from the hoarfrost-covered grass. Their breaths added little white clouds to the mist, and when they turned round, they could just about make out the buildings of the stud.

“It’s beautiful like this, isn’t it?” Teresa asked. “Everything is so quiet and it seems as if you’re alone in the world.”

“Aye,” he said. “Shall we go back? The best thing about this kind of weather is getting back inside, in front of a fire with a cuppa and a good book. Or a game,” he amended. He wanted to make the most of the time he and Teresa had together on the weekends.

They walked in silence for a while. “What would _you_ like for Christmas?” he asked.

-:-

That afternoon, Alec and Iain watched Teresa and Moray leave the courtyard on Ruby and Black Cake. Ruby had passed all the tests Alec had submitted her to with flying colours. There was no sign that she’d freak on Teresa, but to be on the safe side, Moray offered to accompany her.

“It should be you riding Ruby,” Iain said.

Alec glared at him but didn’t otherwise dignify his father’s words. He walked away, heading towards the B&B to warm up with a cuppa and a novel. His work with Ruby was done. From now on, he’d have his time at his own disposal, and he planned to hole up in his suite and read and go for some long walks to get some exercise and mull things over.

The friendship with extras with Holly had been exactly what they’d needed, but it was time now to move on.The phone sex, however, had been as wonderful as it had been surprising. If they really were to build a relationship it couldn't continue from where they’d left off, not if they wanted it to be something more meaningful. While he’d been hoping for some sex with her during her visit, he’d meant to take things slowly.

“I’m talkin’ to ye, son!” Iain called after him.

Alec stopped and turned around. “About what?” he snapped. “What part of _no_ is it that you don’t get, hmm?”

“It used to be your life. Riding and working with the horses,” Iain insisted, closing the distance between them. Mick trotted gamely by his side; Iain had shortened the leash into a loop and slung it over his left shoulder; the clip dangled by his right side. Mick was well-trained and the horses were used to him, so he had free reign of the courtyard.

“Well, it’s not any more,” Alec snarled. “I’m freezing.”

“Have a dram with me, son.”

“Dad, I'm on medication that does not mix with alcohol,” he said.

“Have a bloody cuppa then. We need to talk.”

“What about? I’m nae coming back, Dad. I’m here to recuperate and then I’ll go back to Broadchurch.”

“To await your heart attack so they’ll invalid you out for good?” Iain sneered.

“If needs be, aye,” Alec said.

“Ye’re not going to kill another horse, Alec. How can ye not understand that? Look at what you’ve done with Ruby,” Iain said, gesturing in the general direction in which Teresa and Moray had ridden off. “Why cannae ye do something like that for yerself, eh?”

“Because I’m good with horses, Dad. Not with _people,_ ” he growled. “Now leave me in peace.”

“You know what your greatest fault is?”

Alec started walking, waving for his father to shut up.

“Ye don’t love yerself. Ye don’t respect yerself, not since Emma betrayed you.”

Alec froze. “Dad.”

“It’s true.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Don’t walk away from me, son.”

“I’m nae thirteen years old.”

“No, but you’re behaving as if you were.”

Alec whirled around. “Moray is far better at running the stud than I ever could be. So what’s in it for me, eh? Do I get to play equine psychiatrist? A _horse whisperer_ who doesn’t ever get on horseback? What a joke.”

“Aye.” Iain whistled for Mick, who promptly came running towards them, his tail wagging. Iain clipped the leash onto his collar and set off on his daily walk.

-:-

When his phone announced a call from his father, Alec didn’t want to answer it at first. At the same time, however, he was aware of the fact that his father never called. “Shit,” he cursed, scrabbling for his phone before his father ran out of patience.

“Aye?” he barked, shifting into DI mode automatically.

“One of the farmers just called that he saw Black Cake without Moray,” Iain said without preamble.

Alec sat down heavily. Moray was a good horseman and Black Cake was a sweet-tempered gelding. “What about Teresa and Ruby?”

“Dinnae say. He just saw Black Cake.”

“Where’s Black Cake now?”

“Dinnae say either. Run off, I suppose.”

“I’m on my way,” he said briskly, his heart quickening. After he’d hung up he immediately tried Moray’s phone, but it went straight to voice mail. “Fuck.” It was no use trying Teresa’s phone since she’d left it on the counter in the kitchen.

When he arrived at the stables, some of the staff were already organising search parties. All he could do, however, was stand back and watch as they studied a map and assigned different routes to each pair, one of which the one that Moray and Teresa had taken. Moray had told Iain where they were headed because it was Ruby’s first outing.

He shouldn’t have allowed Teresa to ride Ruby. In the best case scenario she was out there by herself with Ruby, on her way back. He checked his watch, someone had told him that she would have been back ten minutes ago if things had gone to plan. Whatever had happened, it must have been terrible to upset Black Cake so much. What about Moray? It was freezing cold, and if he lay, injured, in some ditch, it would be hard to find him in the fog.

The mist had grown denser as the day progressed and was now a fully formed fog. Finding anyone in it would take a full-fledged miracle.

Ignoring the thudding in his chest, he went through a search party protocol, but there was nothing he could do.

“Alec,” Iain said.

He blinked at him dumbly.

“Any ideas? Ye’re the police man.”

“Umm,” he breathed, finding it hard to get enough air into his lungs. “You… ah… should call the locals. Wouldn’t want to interfere.”

Iain frowned. “Is that the best advice ye can give us?”

“Mr Hardy, the boy’s in shock, cannae ye see that?” Mrs Coulter said. She wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and pushed a mug of tea into his shaking fingers. They stilled around the hot ceramic, but his chest remained tight and the world wasn’t only opaque with fog but also far removed by the rushing sound in his ears.

“I’m… I’m fine,” he squeaked. “We should call the locals, though, the local police.”

“I’ll do that,” Iain said. “You get yourself inside, son. There’s nothing ye can do here.”

Alec was on the verge of glaring at his father in anger, but terror had frozen him and he needed a few minutes to regroup. Maybe throw up to make the dizziness go away.

“Are you sure you’re all right, dearie?” Mrs Coulter asked.

He nodded, allowing her to guide him inside. He hadn’t noticed how cold it really was. From the kitchen window he watched the search parties set off in different directions, following the well-worn paths and Moray and Teresa’s route.

The first search party returned after five minutes with Black Cake in tow. He was in a lather and he clearly looked panicked.

“Oh God,” Alec prayed. “Don’t do this to me.” He slammed the cup of tea he’d been holding down on the counter, the hot contents sloshing over the side and burning his hand, but he didn’t care. He ran outside to meet the search party, who passed Black Cake’s reins over to him. Black Cake danced nervously, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on around him.

Alec managed to shorten his reins and patted his hot, damp neck. “Shh, boy, I’ve got ye. It’s all right, calm down, boy,” he said gently.

“Are you all right? Can we go off again?” the girl asked.

Alec didn’t look at her, he was too busy soothing Black Cake. “Where did you find him?”

“Just down the road,” she said. “He found his way back on his own, but there was no sign of Mr Cairns or Teresa and Ruby.”

“Aye,” he said distractedly.

Iain joined them and the girl quickly repeated her story, then she and her partner set off again.

“Police were told about Black Cake running around without a rider, and someone reported seeing Ruby,” he said. “I’ve already called the search party who are closest to the area where she was seen.”

“Ruby doesn’t know the area at all,” Alec mumbled, trying to keep his voice even and low for the scared gelding’s benefit. He found that it helped him calm down as well. The rushing in his ears was gone and he could breathe a little more freely. 

“She’s going to be fine,” Iain said.

“What about Teresa and Moray? Black Cake came back by himself.”

“All sorted. I told the other search parties to support Linda and Carl, apart from the two who’re on their way to the forest. Ruby knows that lane, doesn’t she?”

“Aye.”

“There are many possible reasons why Moray isn’t answering his phone. Teresa’s goes to voice mail too,” Iain said.

“That’s because it’s in the flat,” Alec said flatly. “Let me take care of Black Cake, aye?” The gelding had calmed down but he was in need of a bath and some pampering. Alec would have liked to join the search but riding was out of the question, and he didn’t know the terrain any more. Things had changed since he’d last been here, the towns and villages had overgrown their borders and sprouted industrial parks and malls. The paths he remembered might not even be there any more. “I’ve got my phone on me.”

Iain nodded and left him to it.

The warmth of the stables was soothing; he’d forgotten to put his coat back on when he’d seen Black Cake return, and he was frozen to the bone. He attended to Black Cake, who seemed puzzled now about what had upset him earlier. Alec checked his body for injuries, but apart from a few scratches, which he’d treat after showering and grooming him, Black Cake seemed fine.

He had just returned him to his box when his mobile vibrated in his pocket. It was his father.

“They’ve found Moray. He’s on his way to hospital,” Iain said.

“Oh God,” Alec breathed, leaning against the door.

“Seems to have broken his arm and cracked a few ribs. Some cuts and bruises too, but he’ll be all right.”

Alec scoffed. That was not all right. “Where did they find him?”

“On his way home, in a ditch. The fog’s thickening, they were lucky to find him in the first place.”

That’s not very encouraging, he thought. “Did he say what happened?” Alec asked, forcing himself to breathe evenly.

There was a short pause that told Alec that Moray had said something. “He was pretty out of it,” Iain said. “Police are on their way to hospital.”

“Oh God,” he moaned, uncaring now whether his father witnessed his distress.

“Is Black Cake all right?”

“Aye, fine. What about Ruby?”

“They’re still looking for her. Look, Alec. It’s getting dark. Maybe Teresa and Ruby are fine, trying to get a message through, aye?” Iain said in a rare case of support.

Alec nodded and ended the call. He was sure that Teresa and Ruby weren’t lost. Hadn't his father said that Ruby had been sighted by herself? Where was Teresa then?

He felt faint and crouched, retching but unable to bring anything up.


	17. Seventeen

Seventeen

Alec heard footsteps approach him as he was nudged by something soft where he was sitting on the floor with his back against the box. A puff of warm breath exploded on his skin, and when he raised his head he looked at Black Cake’s face. He’d forgotten to close the box door again. 

“Are ye all right, son?” Iain asked.

“Aye,” he breathed.

“Watch out, boy, I’m closing the door,” Iain said, nudging Black Cake backwards a little so he could do what Alec had neglected to do earlier. The door slid shut on a well-oiled set of rolls running on a railing outside the box.

Mick joined them, and he pressed himself against Alec’s drawn-up legs as he sensed his distress. Alec’s hand dropped onto his coat and began stroking him absentmindedly.

“Here, drink something,” Iain said, passing him a bottle of water. Then he lowered himself to the ground as well, leaning his back against Black Cake’s door.

“Was that a syncope?”

“No,” Alec said. “It was just hard to breathe. Anyone would have trouble breathing when they realise that their daughter is missing.”

Iain frowned. “She isnae missing, son.”

“Ruby was reported as being seen without a rider,” Alec said. “Black Cake, one of the sweetest horses here, freaked out and threw Moray. Whatever it was that scared them so must have been terrible. Ruby panicked too, and Teresa…”

“Hmm,” Iain hummed. “One would think that Teresa and Moray would have lost their horses in the same place, unless, of course, Teresa managed to cling to Ruby for a wild ride.”

“Ye’re not helping, Dad,” Alec grumbled. He unscrewed the cap and drank. The cold water felt good as it filled his mouth and ran down his parched throat. Even if Ruby had run off with Teresa they should be back by now, and Iain knew that. Alec found his father’s clumsy attempts at comforting him oddly touching, if not a little surprising. He’d never done that before, not even when Mum had died.

“I’m just trying to go through all possible scenarios.”

“Is there any news from the hospital yet?” Alec asked.

“No, but I’ll let you know as soon as they call,” Iain said.

“Right, thanks. Dad.”

Iain smiled sadly. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Alec stared at him. What was he to say? Confronting him now that he was trying so hard to rebuild their relationship was heartless. He didn’t deserve that. “No, I suppose I haven’t. Feels good to say it, though.”

“I feel bad for not being there for you when you needed a dad,” Iain said.

Alec looked at him, startled.

“It’s true. I should have been there to help you with the divorce. I admire you for your decision,” he said.

“Ye do?” In his book the divorce was a failure. He had failed Em, or otherwise she wouldn’t have felt the need to look for love elsewhere. And he’d failed Teresa, because he’d always hoped to spare her the experiences he’d had, watching her parents’ marriage dissolve.

“Life with me and your mother fighting mustn’t have been easy. We should have gotten divorced while we had the chance. I loved her, though. I want you to know that. And I love you too, son,” Iain said.

Alec paused briefly, his father's words rousing feelings he'd thought he'd lost. Like affection for him, and the secure knowledge that he could trust him. “What am I to do, Dad? What am I going to tell Em if something has happened to Teresa?”

Iain produced a hip flask of whisky from the inside pocket of his coat. One quick sip couldn’t hurt, Alec decided. He accepted the flask and took a swig. He hadn’t drunk in a while so the whisky burned down his throat more fiercely than he remembered.

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let her take out Ruby. It’s too soon,” he said.

“Don’t be _glaikit_. It was perfect timing. Do ye really think I’d have let her go if I didn’t think either of them were ready? She has that talent from her Dad, and I trust him,” Iain said, taking a swig himself, and another, before he screwed the cap back on.

“Iain?”

They looked up as one when one of the riding instructors found them.

“Ruby’s back, you and your son better come and have a look at her,” she said.

“Oh God,” Alec muttered under his breath. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this yet.

“We’ll get Teresa back safe and sound, aye?”

Alec was numb.

“Aye?” His father nudged him.

Alec nodded, climbed to his feet and offered Iain a hand, but he waved him off, sending him out to look after Ruby.

The poor thing was in even more of a state than Black Cake had been, and it was hard to calm her down. She, too, was in a lather, and he could see darkness glittering on her coat where she’d cut herself. Her mane and tail were tangled and bits of debris were stuck in them. She was shivering when he finally managed to reach for her reins and talked to her, reaching out carefully to touch her neck.

“Ssh, my beauty, it’s all right, ye’re safe now,” he mumbled to her.

Mick joined them, and Ruby was instantly distracted by the dog. “Should have noticed that earlier,” Alec mumbled to himself as he watched the animals interact. 

When Iain came out of the stable he was about to call Mick to heel, but Alec motioned to him not to. Ruby calmed down more and more. He gave her reins to Iain, the only other man she knew well enough.

“Where did you find her?” Alec asked the riding instructor, Piers, that was his name, Piers.

“In the forest. Her reins had gotten tangled in the brambles,” he said. “No sign of your daughter, though.”

Alec glanced around the courtyard. Everyone who wasn’t busy with the search had come outside. A marked police car and a dark limousine pulled in through the gates.

His heart was thumping in his throat now, and he forced himself to take a deep breath. They’d want a photo, and a statement from him. He’d never imagined he’d be on the other side of the police process like this.

-:-

“Alec.” Ed shook his hand with a firm grip that reminded both men that they weren’t meeting only as former colleagues, but as copper and family member. It had to be Ed Maloney, of course. Theirs had never been any easy relationship because their methods and philosophies were different, but they’d always been professional about it. Alec wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself together now that Ed was in charge of the search for Teresa. He trusted Ed, he just didn’t trust himself not to suggest different approaches.

“Shame to see you again in these circumstances. Congratulations on the Latimer case,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“God, Alec, Teresa.”

 _Please don’t do this to me,_ Alec thought. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing in the general direction of the stud’s office, where they’d be undisturbed.

“Does Em know?”

“What am I supposed to tell her?” Alec asked flatly.

“That she’s missing,” Ed said. “We’ve been looking for her everywhere, but nothing, not a trace. The fog is even making it difficult for the search dogs to follow a trace.”

Alec looked at him for the first time, trying to suppress the glimmer of hope that flickered to life where his heart struggled. “They have a trace? How…?”

“Your father gave us one of her t-shirts. Didn’t he tell you?”

Did he? Alec couldn’t remember. Maybe he had and it hadn’t registered with him. “You’re right, I should tell Em.”

“Bloody well right you should!” Em said. She was already in the small conference room. Conference room was a bit grand; it was a bigger office that doubled as tournament office when they were hosting an event. Mrs Coulter had made sandwiches and tea, and the room seemed too hot after the cold outside.

“Em,” Alec said, stopping momentarily. He hadn’t seen his ex-wife since the day they’d signed the divorce papers. She hadn’t changed much, but she definitely looked more content, if that was a word to use in their situation. She’d plaited her thick, ginger hair into something complicated and elaborate, and her skin had a healthy glow, highlighting her green eyes.

“Alec,” she said, standing and smiling.

They stood there for an awkward moment before they hugged briefly. His body remembered her form immediately, and while that was comforting, it was also strange because he’d expected Holly’s shorter body in his arms.

“What happened, Alec?”

 _A lot._ “It wasnae an accident,” he said. He was sure of that.

“What makes you think that?” Ed asked, removing his notebook from his jacket pocket, flipping it open as he sat.

“You’d have found her not too far from Moray,” he said. “People would have stopped to help, unless, of course, they just disappeared. Hasn’t… hasn’t Moray said anything yet?”

“He was so high on meds that we haven’t been able to question him yet. But someone’s at the hospital and will ask him as soon as possible,” Ed said.

“Who would do something like this? It amazes me again and again that they always think they can get away with it. Two people were involved. If it was an accident,” Em said.

Alec smiled inwardly. They still shared the same instincts.

“Have you got a recent photo of her?”

Em found one in her massive handbag and gave it to Ed. To his surprise, she produced a second copy and gave it to him. “I thought you’d like a new one. You’ve only got the one in your wallet, right?”

“Aye,” he said, ducking his head as he reached for the photo. It had been taken in the summer, Teresa was wearing a top with spaghetti straps. She was looking at something above her, something that made her smile.

“It’s a lovely photo,” Alec said. “But not—“

“I didn’t give him this, you idiot,” Em said, falling back into their old patterns of banter. It threw Alec more than anything else she could have done or said. They needed to talk later.

“Right, then walk us through today’s events, Alec. You know what’s important,” Ed said. “We can do the rest tomorrow, at the station.”

-:-

It was late when Ed finally left, but he was the only one who had eaten Mrs Coulter’s sandwiches. He and Em looked at the almost empty plate at the same time, and they smiled.

“Is there any more tea?” she asked, pointing at the thermos that sat out of her reach.

It was disappointingly light when he lifted it. “Nah, empty,” he said. “I can make some more.”

“Actually, I could do with something stronger,” she said.

He looked away, chewing the inside of his cheek. If he could, he’d self-medicate on his father’s Glenfarclas too, but he’d had more than he was supposed to already, and he wanted to be strong for Teresa.

“Shall we go to the B&B?” he asked, blinking into the clinical fluorescent lighting. “You’re staying the night.” It wasn’t a question. He wouldn’t allow her to drive in this murk.

“Yeah. Look, Alec. Flo’s here too,” Em said. “She drove me. But I’ll tell her to keep herself busy for a while longer so we can talk. If you want.”

It was good to know that their relationship was so supportive, but it also hurt Alec to be reminded of it, and of his loss. If only Holly were here now. He could do with a naked hug in bed; just that, just someone to hold him through the night, because sleep was completely out of the question. “Aye, thanks.”

They settled in the lounge, which was mercifully empty. Early December wasn’t a peak travel time, which was why Em and Flo could be so easily accommodated. 

“You’re looking a lot better than in the media coverage of the Broadchurch case,” Em offered after they’d helped themselves to a glass of wine and a bottle of water from the kitchen. “Despite what’s happened today.”

“The new medication’s working,” he said.

Em gazed at the pale, yellow-green contents of her glass for a few moments before sipping it. “I had no idea this was so hard on you. The case, the divorce. It literally broke your heart.”

He swigged his water. “What was wrong with us, Em? How could we allow this to happen?”

“Look at us. Our daughter is missing, God knows where out in this freezing murk, and we’re discussing our failed marriage. It’s over, Alec,” she reminded him.

Of course she’d think him callous. But he was thinking about Teresa all the time, where she might be, if she was all right. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. “I need to think of something else for a while, Em,” he said flatly. He looked at her pleadingly. “Can we do that?” He had the rest of the night to worry about Teresa.

“I’m sorry, Alec, it’s just… not a good time to talk after all, I suppose,” she said. “Is there anyone…?”

“She’s in Broadchurch, teaching,” he said, and that had to be enough of an explanation. “See you in the morning.”

He stood and took his water bottle with him as he climbed the stairs to the small, empty flat. When he checked his watch, it was gone ten. Teresa had been missing for seven hours. It was out of the question now that she was merely lost, and even if she had been, she’d certainly have found a phone to let him know she was all right. Ed had told him that none of the hospitals or surgeries had admitted her. So she was probably lying in some ditch, like Moray, suffering from hypothermia, or worse.

He sipped at his water, and sat on the floor with his back against the door when his knees buckled out from under him at the magnitude of Teresa’s loss. Dropping the bottle, he covered his face with his hands and allowed himself to wail, to finally take the pressure off his chest. At first, the sound wouldn’t get past the lump in his throat, but then he spluttered and sobbed and it came free, and finally the tears streamed down his face.

A vibration against his groin went unnoticed for a while; he was shaking with sorrow. But then he took a deep, steadying breath, and the vibration was still there. Straightening his leg, he reached into this pocket. He’d turned the phone silent so he checked the display before accepting the call. It was Holly.

“Aye,” he croaked.

“What’s wrong, Alec? What’s happened?” Holly asked at once when she heard the tears in his voice.

“Teresa’s missing.”

“Did she run away?”

“No. She took Ruby for an outing this afternoon and…” He took another deep breath before he told her everything. “I’m so scared, Holly. I always thought I understood parents whose children go missing. But I had no idea. It hurts, Holly, it hurts physically. And all I can do is imagine her lying in some ditch, freezing and in pain. They found Moray like that, and he was lucky.”

“So Ruby is ready for a rider again?” Holly said. “That’s fantastic, Alec.”

“I thought she was,” he said, thankful for Holly taking his mind off Teresa.

“I am sure you were right. The other horse bolted too, right? I’m sure they had very good reason to be so scared,” she said. “How’s your friend? Moray, is it?”

“He’s in hospital. I haven’t had any news yet. I think I’ll call them to find out,” he said, covering his eyes with his hand. He took another shuddering breath. “God, Holly, the loneliness of it. It’s unbearable.”

“I wish I could be there with you.”

He swallowed. “I wish you were too.” _But I doubt I’d feel any less lonely._ There was no one, not even her warm embrace, who could ease his pain. No one but Teresa herself when she returned to him, safe and sound.

“Is there really no one? What about your father?”

“I’m not sure I want him right now.” There wasn’t much comfort in his presence, despite his best efforts.

She sighed. “No other friends?”

“Em is here. With her girlfriend,” he said. “So, no.”

“I don’t believe you, Alec. Go and find your Dad.”

The way she referred to his father twisted something inside him.

“I’m sure he’s just as distraught as you are. Even if you just sit together in silence, at least you won’t feel so lonely.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without her, Holly. All these months since Sandbrook she was the one who kept me going.”

“Oh, Alec,” Holly said. “I wish I could hold you now.”

He took a deep breath. “How are things in Broadchurch?” He tried to sound more cheerful. “What about the arsonist?”

“Nothing, and Ellie won’t tell me anything because of the ongoing investigation,” she said.

“Good girl,” Alec said. 

Holly’s breath of indecision was audible via the phone.

“That sounded awful, didn’t it.”

“Well. Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

“Alec, I think we should hang up now, you want your phone to be free when the police call…”

“Aye,” he sniffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not going to get any sleep tonight.”

He laughed. “No.”

“Write me a letter. I haven’t had a letter in ages. Tell me anything, it doesn’t matter what. You don’t even have to send it. Just do it, yeah?”

He deliberated the idea for a few beats. His heart had calmed, and he found it a lot easier to breathe. “Aye, I will.”

“Good.”

“How do you always know just the right thing to say?”

“I don’t.”

The three words were on the tip of his tongue, but they weren’t right yet. “Thank you, love.”

“Call me as soon as there is news.”

Alec hung up and climbed to his feet, turning the sound on his phone back on. He wasn’t sure he wanted company, at least not physical company, so he went to the small desk where he kept his MacBook to find some paper. It occurred to him that he didn’t have any proper stationery to write a letter. A plain A4 sheet out of the printer from Mrs Coulter’s office would have to do, and one of the business envelopes. Maybe she had something more personal. 

Pocketing his phone, he went downstairs to the office. She wouldn’t mind if he helped himself. As he passed the lounge, he saw the light was on. Curious, he stopped to see who was in there. It was probably Em and Flo. There were no voices, but the rustling of fabric and the gentle, wet sounds of kissing. He wanted to step away when he saw that it was a man and a woman.

His eyes rounded in surprise. It was his father, kissing Mrs Coulter. 

His phone chose that moment to ring. His heart started thumping as his father broke the kiss and turned round to look at him.

“DI Hardy?”

The voice of the man on the other end sounded familiar, but Alec couldn’t place it. It definitely wasn’t the hospital, or Ed. They’d not address him like that.

“I’ve got your daughter.”


	18. Eighteen

Eighteen

Holly wrapped her coat tightly around her torso and slowly lowered herself to the icy floor in the conservatory. It was almost like sinking into a hot bath, only now she hoped that the cold would infuse her with inspiration, or at the very least clear her thoughts, rather than warm her up. She stared at the dark, grimy mirror of the glass roof above her, the sky visible through it, and saw a small bundle of wild-haired woman sitting on the red tiles. The roof could do with a scrub, but that had to wait until warmer weather.

She looked at the two old workbenches she had gotten a few days earlier from the school. New furniture had been ordered for the Art department, and rather than throw away the old, but still usable, workbenches, the Head of the department had given them away. Holly was happy she’d got two; they fitted perfectly on the long side of the conservatory, they were sturdy and there was enough room underneath them to stow away boxes. She liked the nicked and paint-splattered hardwood surface, and had decided against sanding and painting the bench tops. She had, however, removed the vice handles because she’d never use them, and they’d just be in the way, adding hoops for towels in their place.

The two benches were miles better than the rickety trestle table, but so far she hadn’t had a chance to work at them. It was exam time, which meant less free time, and then Alec had called to tell her that Teresa was missing.

It was like a bad joke. The very man whose job it was to find people was missing his own child, just weeks after he’d got her back. He’d spoken of physical pain at her loss, and she feared for his heart. Just as his heart was healing, both physically and metaphorically, someone or something, fate or God, had given Alec back everything just to tear it away from him again.

She felt for her phone in the pocket of her jeans. It was turned on, set to vibrate as well as ring, and it was fully charged. She certainly wouldn’t miss his call, and yet three hours had passed since their conversation. A quick check of the Scottish weather forecast had yielded disheartening information. Sub-zero temperatures were expected, and it was already close to freezing. Add to that the dense fog and tricky terrain and she had a good idea of the horror Alec must be going through.

It had been three hours since his call, and still there was no news. Or was there, and he assumed she’d be fast asleep by now and didn’t want to wake her? He didn’t know her well enough yet. Maybe she should listen to her own advice and write a letter too, to keep her overactive imagination occupied. 

But she knew that it was probably better to allow her imagination to run wild, then she could banish them by committing them to pen and paper. It was a kind of exorcism. Once she had committed an idea to paper, it usually left her alone.

Standing, she made a detour to the much warmer kitchen to make herself a cuppa. Back in the conservatory, she turned on the portable heater, then she fished her mobile out of her pocket and sent Alec a quick text, asking him if there was any news. If he’d fallen asleep after all, it wouldn’t wake him, unless, of course, he had set his phone to alert him at the smallest bit of activity.

When she returned to the small space with her mug, the steam rising from it dense in the chill, there was no reply.

Maybe Teresa was safe and sound in someone’s home, staying the night with strangers so no one had to go out in the elements. She’d probably called and Alec was asleep, maybe not soundly, but at least assured in the knowledge that Teresa was well.

Holly found it curious that in cases like this, everyone tended to assume the worst. It was probably a form of self-preservation. By imagining the worst, one was more or less prepared for whatever happened, good or bad.

Still, she pulled up her stool and sat down to sketch a girl. At first, she looked a lot like Karen. Cupping her forehead with her palm, Holly stared at the picture. This wasn’t _her_ Karen. Something about the portrait wasn’t quite right, and, sipping her tea, she realised that the visual memory of her was starting to fade. Holly straightened and stiffened. It was too soon for that to happen. “Oh, Karen,” she whispered. 

Forgetting what she looked like, even if it was just the small details, those that made a portrait’s likeness, was something she hadn’t been prepared for at all. She drew up a picture of Karen on the small screen of her mobile. She didn’t want to delete it, even if she and Alec worked out. It just felt wrong.

She compared the photo to the sketch and made some changes.

She had no idea what Teresa looked like. Did she take after Alec or after her mother? In all likelihood she had dark eyes, but that was all she could come up with. She set her pencil to paper again and started to draw a pair of eyes. As usual, she worked from the inside out, starting with the circle delineating the pupil, then another for the iris and a hint of another on the inside to depict the eyeball. Then she added the upper and lower lid, the folds around them, the lashes, eyebrows, the shape. The last bits she did was filling in the iris, the pupil and the highlights. With these strokes life entered the eyes, and she felt oddly watched when she added them first thing in a portrait.

Straightening, she found herself looking at Alec’s eyes.

She laughed. All she wanted to do was banish the images in her mind; a girl lying sprawled in a variety of locations and positions, with varying degrees of injuries. Not her dead lover or her current lover.

She checked her mobile. When she was immersed in her work she often became oblivious to the outside world. But there was no news from Alec. The clock at the top of the small screen told her it was three in the morning.

Cued by that, she yawned.

She reached for her tea, but it had gone cold, despite the relative warmth of the room. 

Should she book a train to Glasgow to join Alec? She dismissed the idea. By the time she arrived, even if she caught an early train, Teresa would be back home. It would be great to see him, but he’d want to spend all his time with his daughter. Besides, she had an exam to give on Monday morning. She hated the idea of having someone else give it in her place or and rescheduling was almost impossible.

 _Bed now. Which means you can call me within the next 20 mins or so without waking me,_ she texted him. She turned off the heater and collected her mobile and mug to retire.

When she returned to her bedroom after brushing her teeth, there was a message from Alec. She huffed. Of course he’d reply when she wasn’t anywhere near her phone. Her heart sped up as she read his message. _She’s a case now. Abduction. It’s such a mess. I am a mess. Please don’t call._

She wanted to ignore his plea at first. Her finger was hovering over the green button when it occurred to her that the kidnapper might try to reach him at his mobile phone.

She sat heavily on the edge of her bed. It squeaked in protest. Even in her darkest imagination, abduction hadn’t been a possibility. This was so much worse than the idea of Teresa lying in a ditch with broken bones and hypothermia.

Her chest felt tight. What was she to do? She couldn’t even call Alec to offer long-distance comfort. They’d never exchanged landline numbers; she supposed she could google Brochwinnie, but what good would it do? It’d only distract him, possibly block the line for vital communications. If he was allowed any phone calls at all.

Calling Ellie wasn’t an option either, not at three in the morning.

 _Don’t know what to say, stealing words: i carry your heart in mine,_ she texted back. That had to be allowed: paraphrasing e e cummings’ poem and sending it to the man she loved when he needed her.

He sent her a _:’)?_ in return.

 _Tell me to come to Brochwinnie,_ she typed. She wanted to be there for him, but she also needed to know that he wanted her there. Sod the exam. There were more important things in life.

 _No. Escaping with you on the phone is much better,_ he replied a few minutes later. 

_Do you want to talk?_ He’d told her a few minutes ago not to call, but she had to try anyway.

_No. I don’t trust myself right now._

_What can I do?_

_Just… carry my heart in yours?_

_:) Will do._

_Get some sleep now, love._

It was easier said than done. She was tired, but her concern for Teresa and for Alec kept her tossing and turning beneath the covers. Too many questions tumbled about in her head, and each answer she tried to find came with a what-if scenario. Images of Teresa dead or dismembered, or worse, popped into her head, and along with them came a distraught Alec whose heart was literally breaking. The worst of all, Alec’s heart giving in, made her sit up straight and gasping for breath, trying to steady herself.

Sometimes, when she couldn’t go to sleep, a quick orgasm would relax her, but it felt wrong right now. Sighing, she got up, pulled on an extra thick pair of socks she’d knitted and a robe, moving to sit in the armchair. It was a 1950s piece with wooden armrests she’d picked up ridiculously cheaply at an antiques market via ebay. She’d re-covered it after letting it air out for a few weeks. The chair was comfortable, and, with a cushion and blanket, had become her favourite place to curl up. She put on the audio book she’d been listening to a few days earlier, and picked up her knitting needles and the wool she had bought for Alec’s scarf. It was high time she got started on it if she wanted to finish it by Christmas.

The soft clicking of the needles and the repetitiveness of the stitches relaxed her, but the pattern she’d chosen prevented her mind from wandering. She found herself fully focused on Cumberbatch’s voice. She put on CD after CD, and by the first time she really looked up from her work, the scarf was halfway done, and the inkiness of the night was beginning to fade into dawn.

Holly yawned and crawled into bed. She fell asleep at once and woke, feeling a little hungover, a few hours later. At first, she was disoriented, which wasn’t helped by the light conditions. The world outside was shrouded in dense fog, the whiteness glaring at her when she opened the shutters. Blinking, she remembered Alec’s text messages. She hadn’t heard any more coming in while she slept, so she rushed to the small occasional table where she’d put her knitting and her phone. There were a host of messages, not only from Alec. Ellie had texted her too.

She read hers first. _What’s this about Alec’s daughter being kidnapped? Call me._

“If only I knew,” Holly murmured, moving on to Alec’s missives.

 _Why my daughter?_ he wrote. _I’d always thought my family were exempt from such horrors._

_Don’t know what to do, Holly. This is killing me._

_It’s my little girl, for fuck’s sake._

_Can’t do anything. So helpless. Hate it._

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_

_Fuck._

_Sorry._

_Oh Holly._

_Settling down to write to you now._

_Scotch would help._

_Dad’s sitting with me now. The silence is good._

Tears sprang to Holly’s eyes as she read his words. She should have gone up to Scotland when she’d first had the idea the previous night. Catching the night train from Bristol might have been a little tricky, but if she had, she could have been with him by now. If she caught a train now, she’d be with him by tonight, but by then it might be too late.

Her phone rang.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Ellie asked without preamble.

“I just fell out of bed,” Holly said, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love. You want to come over for breakfast? So we can talk?”

“I don’t know, Ellie.”

“I could take you to Bristol airport. They have flights to Glasgow. You could be with Alec by early afternoon,” she said.

“What?” She hadn’t thought of flying..

“You’ll be with him in no time.”

“I don’t think he wants me there.”

“Bollocks. He just says that.”

“He doesn’t even want to talk to me on the phone. It’s just text messages. I have no idea what’s really going on up there apart from the fact that Teresa was abducted,” Holly said. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

“There are many reasons, but most of them don’t apply to Alec and Teresa,” Ellie sighed. “Come to mine. The children are out with my nephew and sister.”

Holly cupped her forehead with her palm. “All right.”

Half an hour later, including a walk in the icy fog and a quick stop by the bakery, Holly arrived at Ellie’s. Her house was warm and welcoming, as was the promising smell of hot tea and porridge.

Ellie hugged Holly before she had a chance to take off her coat and gloves. 

“Come on through,” Ellie said, taking the bag of cupcakes and showing Holly into the dining room.

The table was set for a breakfast for two, with orange juice and a pot of tea, an assortment of jams and marmalades as well as honey, nutella, and toast. “It feels a bit wrong,” Holly said, turning around to look at her friend.

Ellie’s eyes widened. “Why, have I forgotten something?”

“No. It’s just… Such a lovely breakfast, so ordinarily Sunday. It’s as if nothing has happened.”

“Not eating anything won’t make a difference to Alec or Teresa,” Ellie said. “But I see what you mean. You’re staying, though, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Holly said, smiling, glad Ellie seemed to understand her sentiment. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’ll just get the tea and porridge. Toast’s for later if that’s all right?”

“Perfect. I’d probably just have had a cuppa.”

When they were settled at the table, Ellie demanded to know everything Holly knew about the abduction. It wasn’t much.

“So someone scared the horses, they threw Teresa and Alec’s friend, and the kidnapper snatched Teresa, leaving Alec’s friend for dead?” Ellie summarised when Holly had recounted the events of the previous day.

“It could have happened like that, couldn't it?” Holly mused, licking her spoon as she lost herself in her thoughts. “Who’d do something like that, though?”

“Usually, it’s people who are close to the family,” Ellie said, lowering her gaze to her empty porridge bowl.

“Emma Hardy?” Holly asked. “Her mother. But we don’t know anything about their relationship. It must have been close, because Alec protected Teresa and didn’t want her to think ill of her mother.”

“It could have changed.”

Holly hummed. “Teresa spends her weekends with Alec, and stays with her mum during the week. They’re going skiing over Hogmanay.”

“Do you know anything about Alec’s father?”

“While Alec and his father’s relationship isn’t the best, Alec told me his father adores Teresa,” Holly said.

“So no. Probably. Alec’s friend, the one who accompanied her on the outing?” Ellie pressed.

“He’s Alec’s best friend. Teresa practically lived with him and his wife during the Sandbrook case,” Holly mused. She sipped her tea. “What I find striking is the irony of it all. Alec said so too. He’d never imagined he would be on the other side of the fence. He’d assumed his family was immune.”

“Danny wasn’t abducted,” Ellie said softly. “But as far as I remember, the Sandbrook girls were, but they weren’t held for ransom.”

“Dare I even ask?” Holly asked, fearing the worst.

Ellie lowered her gaze again. “It’s unimaginable, isn’t it?”

“They were sexually abused, weren’t they?”

Ellie nodded. “I don’t know any details, however. We followed the case closely in those days, but Alec’s team kept details to themselves.”

“So it was just dumb luck that his wife’s car was broken into, and their only piece of evidence was stolen?” Holly asked, peeling the paper off a chocolate cupcake. They were her favourite, the most succulent she’d had in ages.

Ellie blinked. “Are you suggesting that the murderer knew about their find?”

Holly shrugged. “I was just asking.”

“You, Miss Carlisle, know just how to ask the right questions. You’d make a fine detective. Any chance we could steal you away from school?”

Holly laughed. “Absolutely not.”

“I’ll have to get in touch with someone on the Sandbrook team who is not called Hardy or Florence Ward,” Ellie said.

“Are you thinking revenge as a motive? Because kidnapping Teresa would affect three people all at once, wouldn’t it? How many were on the team?”

“You are an absolute genius!” Ellie said, standing. “I’ll have to get my iPad and phone to make some calls. Help yourself to the laptop in the family room to book a flight.”

“Alec doesn’t want me there,” she protested.

“Alec can be incredibly stupid,” was all Ellie said before she left the room.

Holly took a bite of her cupcake, but it didn’t taste right today, and the texture of the nearly black confection didn’t even register with her.


	19. Nineteen

Nineteen

DI Edward Canning was none too pleased when Ellie called him with the results of her Sunday morning breakfast conversation with a civilian, and Hardy’s girlfriend to boot. He could not reject the fact, however, that their ideas made sense.

“All right, I’ll look into it,” he promised.

Ellie had switched on the speaker phone function so she didn’t have to recount the conversation to Holly, and rolled her eyes at his grumbling admission. “I’m sure Alec and his ex-wife will appreciate any help. We’re friends, you know.”

Ed guffawed. “He certainly can do with some help now.”

Holly’s eyes went wide at about the same time as Ellie did a double-take. “Why, what’s happened?” she asked suspiciously.

“The doc had to give him a mild sedative,” Canning said, and Ellie curled her fingers into her fists at his tone.

“You are aware that Alec has given his all for the murdered _children_ ,” Ellie reminded him. She reached out for Holly’s hand to steady both of them. The moral superiority of this DI was unbelievable. Even at his worst Alec had been empathetic and sensitive, and he’d only used his rudeness to bring people out of their shell. Exasperation and accusations usually made people want to defend themselves; Ellie had to admit, in hindsight, that it worked, but the game of good-cop-bad-cop had been exhausting, particularly since she hadn’t been aware they were playing it at the time.

“Heard something like that. Look, no offence, Sergeant, but I’ve got a kidnapper to catch. Thanks for the heads-up, though,” Canning said, ending the call unceremoniously.

“Bastard!” Ellie cried as she hit the red button with more force than necessary. It was only then that she noticed that Holly had gone pale. “Oh, love,” she said, crouching before her. She took the younger woman’s hand. “I’m sure he’ll be all right. He rarely slept while he was working the case. The sedative will just give him some much-needed rest. And that way he won’t have to think of Teresa all the time.”

Holly looked at her. “I’m so scared.”

“I’m worried too.”

Holly took a deep breath. “I think I’ll get on that flight. I don’t like the idea of Alec being all by himself at all. His ex has support from her girlfriend, and his best friend is in hospital; he has no one up there.”

“He does have his father, though, doesn’t he?” Ellie asked.

“Their relationship is tricky.”

Ellie nodded in understanding. “Finish your tea. I’ll take you back to your house so you can pack a few essentials. Then I’ll drive you to the airport.”

“What about the boys?”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine at my sister’s. In fact, Ollie and they have become inseparable,” she said. “At least since… Well.” She affected a smile.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

“You just make sure that Alec comes back to us, yeah?”

Holly smiled.

“And let me know if you get any bright ideas about our arsonist.”

This time, Holly laughed. Ellie smiled, glad that her motherly approach had been successful. In combination with Alec’s affected rudeness, she supposed there would be few cases they couldn’t solve if he returned. _When_ he returned.

“I miss Alec,” she said. “Tell him that, will you?”

“I will.”

They were quiet in the car, both on the ride to Holly’s home, and to the airport. There was no need to fill the silence with meaningless chatter, and it was good to lose themselves in their thoughts. It was comfort enough to know that they were not alone as they did so. At least Ellie found it comforting; she didn’t know about Holly, and there was no chance to ask without breaking the spell.

Holly hugged her goodbye at Bristol airport. 

“Give him my love. And call when there’s news, yeah?” If she weren’t needed in Broadchurch she’d have dropped everything and gone to Glasgow too. The idea that Alec was suffering physically as well as emotionally appealed to her mothering instincts, no matter how unwelcome they were when Alec was in a bad mood. He’d been sedated by his doctor, for Christ’s sake. Things didn’t look to good, and who knew what his ex-wife was like. Ellie was pretty sure that their relationship was a strained one; that there was little support available from her. It certainly was a good idea for Holly to go up north to look after him.

“Of course I will. Thanks again, Ellie.”

Thankfully, the M5 wasn’t busy this Sunday, so Ellie allowed her thoughts to wander on the way back to Broadchurch. She was having a difficult time shaking the idea that Holly had suggested as a reason for Teresa’s kidnapping. Revenge was a powerful motive, and a dangerous one. The perpetrator was unpredictable and might be ready to go as far as murder or rape; the latter was what set Ellie so on edge. Teresa was a lovely girl, only fifteen, and breaking her to hurt her father was a possible scenario. If that happened, Ellie was sure, Alec would break too, and then all the drugs in the world wouldn’t save him.

Uncovering the reason behind the crime was more difficult. As coppers, making enemies was an occupational hazard. Few criminals ever took revenge on them because they were smart enough to know that if they did, their life was as good as over. There was no getting away with killing a police officer, given the fierce loyalty amongst the force, even towards the unpopular members of the local station. A dead copper threatened the whole force, reminding them of their vulnerability. 

“It’s not a professional,” Ellie murmured to herself. “Unless, of course, Alec has really pissed him off.”

The circle of suspects narrowed to victims and their families, or perhaps someone from Alec’s past, someone who hadn’t committed any crimes so far, and weren’t in the system yet. Ellie could hardly imagine that was the case, but she had learned early on that you could never be sure with Alec.

“Who says Teresa was kidnapped to get back at Alec? Maybe someone has a grudge against DS Hardy,” she said to drown out the silence in the car. “It’s probably not the Sandbrook murderer — he should be thankful he got away with it. There’s no point in endangering his freedom. Unless, of course, he’s turned surprisingly stupid all of a sudden. Which is very unlikely.”

Her phone rang. It was Brian, and with a smile Ellie reached towards the middle console, where her phone was mounted, to accept his call. His voice rang out through the speakers of the car’s stereo system. “Hello, Ellie,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Where are you?” he asked, noticing the noises of a car travelling at high speed.

“I’m on my way back from the airport. I’ve given Alec’s girlfriend a lift.”

“Have you heard what happened to him?” Brian asked.

“His daughter’s been abducted, yeah,” Ellie said, checking her mirrors to overtake a coach full of pensioners.

Brian sighed. “So it’s true. He might be DI Shitface, but that’s just horrible. Do you know any of the particulars?”

“No, but I have some ideas.”

“Care to share them at mine tonight?”

“I’d love to, but I dropped the boys off at Ollie’s for the weekend, and I’m sure that he’d like to go to the pub instead of looking after his cousins tonight,” she said.

“How about I come to yours? We could make pizza together.”

Ellie hesitated. It was a bit soon for the boys to meet Brian. Tom’s emotions were all over the place, and now that puberty was starting to kick in, things weren’t exactly any easier.

Brian picked up on her pause. “Just as friends. Nothing romance-y, or that sort of stuff if it makes you and your boys feel better. It’s just… for the company.”

Ellie smiled to herself. Dirty Brian was a more decent bloke than she had given him credit for. He’d freaked her out a bit when he seemed unfazed by her pointing out that she was married when he’d first asked her out. Ever since Joe’s arrest he had been extra nice and considerate. Ellie wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was he being nice for her and the children’s sake, or was this the genuine him? Had his nonchalance just been a mask he’d slipped on to cover his embarrassment? Only one way to find out.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I might bounce some of my ideas about the kidnapping off of you, though. If that’s all right.”

She could hear his smile over the speakers. “More than. Any news on the arsonist?”

“He’s been quiet. I don’t trust that,” she admitted. This gap was the longest between fires yet, and that made her nervous.

“Very wise. See you later then? I’ll bring the food and wine. If that’s all right.”

 _He’s already bought the ingredients,_ Ellie thought, _in case I went over there tonight_. “Okay,” she said anyway.

-:-

She needn’t have worried. While Tom was a little reluctant in Brian’s company at the beginning, her boy warmed to Brian quickly once he learned that he’d had a passion for skating as a teenager, and what he did for a living. Ellie had had no idea that Tom was interested in forensics. She decided not to say anything about it right then, she was just glad that the evening was going so well. They had made the pizza together, each of them putting their favourite topping on the shop-bought pizza dough.

Afterwards, Ellie insisted on cleaning up so Tom and Brian had a chance to bond further over a video game. Fred had been exceptionally good about bedtime, but that was probably because he was close to falling asleep on the spot after the excitement of the day with his cousin.

Eventually, Brian joined her in the kitchen, refilling their wine glasses. “Tom’s off watching telly,” he said.

“Yeah, one of his favourite programmes is on,” Ellie said, checking the clock on the wall.

“He’s great,” Brian said.

Ellie dried her hands on a tea towel and put it back on the rail running the front of the oven with great care. “I hate what Joe did to him. To us. And Tom’s starting puberty.”

“I think he has laid Joe with _damnatio memoriae,_ ” he offered.

“Sorry, what?”

“Condemnation of memory. He’s punishing him by denying he ever existed. It’s what the Ancient Romans did to punish traitors, and some other criminals. They’d erase the perpetrator’s name from inscriptions. Of course, it was much easier to do in those days,” Brian explained.

Ellie leaned against the counter with a sigh. Brian passed her glass of wine to her and she sipped the dark red beverage thoughtfully. “It’s a horrible thing to do, but I cannot say I blame him. I kicked and hit Joe when I first learned what he’d done. Children can be surprisingly cruel, can’t they?” She looked at him.

“Yeah. You’ll just have to be careful that Tom doesn’t bottle his feelings up. It’s just not healthy.”

“I don’t know how to deal with my own feelings about the whole matter most of the time,” Ellie admitted.

“I think you’re doing fine,” Brian said. “Look, Ellie. I’m sorry for having made you uncomfortable when I first asked you out. I really like you and I want to get to know you better. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not ready for,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Ellie guffawed at first, but she found herself nodding.

Her phone rang on the table in the hall.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, pushing past him to answer the call. Checking the caller ID, she ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. It was Holly. She wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to hear what she had to say. She touched the green button to accept the call.

“Hi,” Holly said.

“You took your time. Are you all right? Is _he_ all right?”

“Alec doesn’t even know I’m here. He’s out cold in his bed. Apparently, the sedative wasn’t as mild as we’d thought. I’ve met his father, though. Now I know where Alec gets his charm from,” Holly said, sighing.

Ellie blinked. She couldn’t tell if Holly was serious. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, sorry. I’m serious. Mr Hardy is an old-school gentleman,” Holly said.

“I’m still worried about Alec.”

“No need. Martin, his doctor, took drastic measures, but he assures me he did it for Alec’s own good. I’m not so sure Alec will be so appreciative when he comes round,” she said.

“What about Teresa?” Ellie asked, luring Brian out of the kitchen with her question. He joined her, touching her upper arm as a way to comfort her. If he were Tom, she’d have drawn him into her arms. Ellie leaned into his touch.

Holly took a deep breath. “Nothing about her whereabouts. The kidnapper has got in touch, though, and Alec reckons he knows his voice. But that was last night, and we’ve heard nothing since.”

“I knew it,” Ellie said. She put Holly on the speaker phone. “It’s always someone close to the family.”

“I wouldn’t say close,” Holly said. “Alec told Canning the voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t attach a name to it.”

“And he hasn’t called since?” Brian asked.

“Who’s that?” Holly asked.

“Brian Young, I’m with SOCO. And Ellie,” he said. He went on to say, “Apparently, the kidnapper wants to keep voice contact to a minimum. He knows Hardy will eventually remember where he's heard his voice before.”

“Oh,” Holly said. Ellie agreed with her; she hadn’t thought of that. So if you added revenge as a motive it narrowed down the circle of suspects. She ignored, for the time being, Brian’s comment about being with her.

“Should I tell Canning?”

“Yes,” Ellie decided, “but make it sound like a suggestion. You know how to do it, right?”

Holly laughed. “Yeah.”

“Give him my love when he wakes.”

“And tell him the team haven’t forgotten him,” Brian added, which earned him another curious look from Ellie.

“Will do. I’ll keep you posted.”

“The team haven’t forgotten him? The same team that called him DI Shitface?” Ellie asked, setting her mobile aside.

“He’s earned his spurs,” Brian said with a shrug. “Besides, I wouldn’t wish an abducted child on my worst enemy. Well, maybe. But certainly not DI Shitface. He isn’t that bad.”

Ellie laughed. “What was that about being with me?”

He draped his arms loosely around her, leaving enough space between them so she didn’t feel crowded. “I’d be the luckiest man. And the happiest.”

His words touched places deep within her that she’d thought had died at Joe’s arrest. And some of those places were new or showed themselves in a way she’d never seen before. For the first time in a long time she felt like a woman rather than a wife and mother. The emotions sent colour to her face.

“I… it’s a bit early,” was the first thing she said, despite the goose-flesh inducing warmth that had spread through her at his words. It was early. She still didn’t know what to make of Joe’s betrayal, and she had the boys to consider. Or Tom, rather. Fred was still too young to understand what had torn their family apart.

“I know. I understand. Just… tell me if there’s any chance that, given more time, you’d feel the same way about me?” he asked softly, brushing her back with his thumbs.

“I like you. A lot,” she said, smiling. “Why do you think I invited you here tonight?”

He grinned adorably, a bit lopsided, and his eyes narrowed in the process without crinkling in the corners. He was gorgeous.

She placed a hand on his chest. “But please let’s just… be close friends for the time being. I still have some soul-searching to do, and you don’t deserve to be a doormat. Or the rebound bloke.”

His smile softened into something warmer and happier. “I don’t suppose you’d kiss me as a promise?”

“As a matter of fact, I would,” she said, stepping closer to him. She wanted his care and his attention, and it was just a kiss. She could give him that. She’d been wondering all night what it would be like to run her fingers through his curls.

They had no trouble aligning their heads whatsoever; each of them tilted their head to right, and their lips met without bumping noses. His lips were soft and full, and he just pressed them to hers for a few moments, to get a feel for her. He felt perfect, and so, after withdrawing briefly, she opened beneath him when his tongue sneaked out to touch her lips. He sighed in surprise, and then he touched her.

Ellie started a little. It had been such a long time since she’d kissed someone who wasn’t Joe. Brian’s kiss was entirely different, reluctant in a way, but at the same time taking what he could get. He left taking things further to her, which she appreciated. He’d really meant it when he said he’d give her time to sort herself.

He did pull her close to him, however, and she could feel the beginnings of an erection. She stiffened briefly. Her knickers had gone damp too, so she couldn’t blame him, but it was definitely too soon.

She didn’t want to break the kiss, however; she didn’t want to take her fingers out of his surprisingly soft curls. When she grazed his skin with her nails, he moaned. He was going to be a most responsive lover, she thought.

“Mum!”

She pulled away, startled.

Tom was standing in the hall, already in his jimjams. He looked horrified.

“Tom, sweetheart,” she said, smiling shakily.

Brian stepped away from her at once, looking away so as not to interfere.

“You can’t kiss him!” Tom accused.

That was a surprise, given his reaction to his father’s crime. What had Brian called it? Condemnation of memory. She didn’t recall the Latin words.

But Tom only glared at her, turned on the spot and ran upstairs.

“I’d better go,” Brian said.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry, though. For the kiss.”

Ellie smiled briefly.

“I hope he’ll come round. Or would you like me to…?”

“I think we’d best leave him alone for now.”

“Right. Thanks for the lovely evening. I really enjoyed it. And the boys’ company.”

“Thanks, Brian,” Ellie said, stretching slightly to kiss him, just a touch of lips on lips.


	20. Twenty

Twenty

Alec’s father had shown her to the small flat on the top floor of Mrs Coulter’s B&B. There were two bedrooms, one was Alec’s, the other held Teresa’s things; there was no way she’d move them just so she’d have a place to sleep. She left her things in the parlour and went to look in on Alec. Unsure if it would be okay for her to slip under the covers with Alec while he was sleeping, she also didn’t want to leave him by himself. Ellie had once told her that she thought that Alec didn’t sleep as much as he needed to. Holly was a little worried because he’d been out for sixteen hours or so. Martin’s instructions, however, were clear and not to be meddled with: _Let him sleep for as long as he needs._

Kicking off her shoes, Holly settled on the empty half of his bed with the book she’d brought, but she didn’t open it to read. Most of the time, she just looked at Alec sleeping beside her. He looked relaxed, and, despite his sorrow, better than the last time she’d seen him. Colour had returned to his face. He had shaved off his beard, although his face was now covered in stubble. His hair was shorter than she remembered too. She longed to caress his cheek and run her fingers through his hair, but she was afraid of waking him. The less he was awake, the less he would be consumed by worrying about Teresa.

Holly had yet to meet his ex-wife and her girlfriend, but she wasn’t very keen on the meeting. Mr Hardy didn’t seem too eager for her to meet the former Mrs Hardy either. He’d seemed happy enough that she had arrived. From what she could tell, he was a nice, if reserved, gentleman who cared deeply about his son’s welfare, and who was shaken to the core by the fact that his only granddaughter had been abducted.

DI Canning had been ready to accept her suggestion that the kidnapper might be someone from Alec’s professional past. Holly had done what Ellie had suggested: she’d taken advantage of the DI's soft spot for women. It was good to know that men were still susceptible to her charms; in Canning’s book she ranked somewhere in between helpless blonde hottie and clever woman.

Putting her book onto the empty table beside the bed, she slid down and stretched out beside Alec. She was aware of the fact that she was taking things a step further than he would probably be comfortable with, but at the moment she didn’t care. She wanted to drink him in.

He was wearing a grey t-shirt to bed; he’d flung out his left hand, as if to reach for her, while his right was curled beneath his chin, pulling the covers tight around himself. She couldn’t tell if he’d been crying. If he had, his eyes had lost their puffiness.

She slid her hand into his, pulling his hand close to her chest, and curled up beside him. Now that the adrenaline of the trip had faded away, she could do with a nap too. She closed her eyes, brushing her thumb over Alec’s skin. _Just for a few minutes,_ she thought, still unwilling to leave him by himself.

Holly woke when the featherlight touches wouldn’t stop tickling her, even after she swatted at them. Her eyes fluttered open to the dim light of the lamp on the table behind her. She smiled when she saw that the source of the insistent touches was calm.

Alec’s eyes were rounded with surprise, and, she noted, a healthy dose of disbelief.

“Hey, you,” she whispered, pulling his hand to her lips to kiss it.

“Tell me I’m awake.”

“You’re awake.”

“Teresa?”

“No news, last time I checked. What time is it?” she asked.

He withdrew his hand from her grasp to check his wristwatch. “It’s gone ten,” he murmured, his voice gravelly from sleep.

“It’s only been an hour,” she said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

He turned away, reaching for his phone. He had to swipe the screen twice to unlock the device so he could check his messages. “Nothing,” he said, slumping back into the pillows.

“I’m sorry,” Holly said.

He looked at her, brushing an errant lock of hair from her face. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

She smiled. “The idea of you here all alone broke my heart. Our hearts. Ellie and Brian send their love.”

He raised his brows. “Ellie and Brian? As in Ellie _and_ Brian?”

“As compared to Ellie. And Brian? The former,” Holly said. “I think.”

“Good on her.” He stared at her. “I didn’t send you a postcard yesterday. Or today.”

Holly laughed. “I think I’ll survive.”

“You’re really here. Because of me?”

“Of course I am, you adorably silly man,” she said, smiling.

“Thank you, Holly,” he said, his eyes moistening.

She cupped his cheek. “Oh, please don’t cry, Alec. Ellie and I had some ideas about the kidnapper. We passed them on to Canning.”

“But Teresa’s still not back, is she?”

Her heart broke for him.

He let out a shuddering breath and rolled to lie on his back. “God, I don’t know what I’ll do if something has happened to her. This is because of me. Innit?”

Holly sat up and turned so he could see her. She placed her hand on his chest. “That’s what Ellie and I reckon. You said you recognised his voice when he called last night? The kidnapper?”

He nodded, still not looking at her. A pair of tears escaped the corners of his eyes and slid down his temples, disappearing into his hair.

“Scoot up a bit,” Holly said, and to her surprise, Alec obliged, coming to rest in a half-sitting position. She straddled his hips, resting both her hands on his chest. “We reckon it’s about revenge.”

“We?” he asked, distracted by the use of the personal pronoun.

“Ellie and I. We’ve been thinking.”

“She ought to be catching an arsonist.”

“He might have the same motive,” Holly quipped. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she clamped her hand over it. She had no idea where that had come from all of a sudden.

Alec narrowed his eyes. “Do you think there’s a connection?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?”

Alec sat up and wrapped his arms around her. Holly buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent of sweat and sleep. His hand went to the base of her neck and he held her where she was. His breath on her skin made her shiver; she was sure that she didn’t smell half as good as he did. She hadn’t even taken a shower before crashing beside him.

Alec took a deep breath and let go of her. “I’ll have to… Canning and Miller ought to work together. I’m sure they can see things more clearly.”

“You want to be out there, don’t you,” she said.

“It’s killing me, but I wouldn’t be doing Teresa any favours. I’d just get in the way”

He stared at her. Holly debated leaning in for a kiss when he straightened. His kiss was brief but sweet. She knew it was more than she could have hoped for, and still he left her wanting more. But she was straddling him, and she’d slept beside him. Surely, that was enough to ask for in one day, particularly in a situation such as this. 

“You’re brilliant,” he said. “Thank you.”

“You’re not mad that I came?”

“I’ll never be mad when you come,” he said.

She swallowed. “Is that a double entendre?”

He grinned at her. “Let me call Miller and Canning.”

“You’re horrible,” she smiled, swatting him playfully. She unseated herself and stood on shaky legs beside his bed. “I’m going to freshen up.”

Her stomach chose that moment to growl.

“Did you make that sound?”

“I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast,” she said, and stopped herself just in time to point out that he hadn’t eaten anything in a far longer time.

“Today?”

She nodded.

He smiled ruefully. “I think I’d better eat something too. Because of the meds I’m on.”

“Are you supposed to call Martin when you’re awake?”

He made a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure Mrs Coulter will do that once she’s seen me up and about.” He paused briefly as if something just occurred to him, but whatever it was, he didn’t share. “The bathroom’s the first door on the left.”

Holly smiled and touched his soft hair before she left. She collected her things from her small wheelie case. She was a bit thrown at first when she saw Teresa’s toiletries in the bathroom. The flat was small, so it was little surprise that they’d have to share. She didn’t mind. It was just surreal that the missing girl’s things were there, as if nothing had happened. Holly half-expected her to open the door any moment and ask her who she was and what she was doing in their bathroom.

Having helped herself to two of the towels from the shelf beside the washbasin, she stepped under the shower and let the hot water work its magic on her tense muscles. She felt much better as she stepped out of the tub.

She was combing out her wet tresses when the door opened and Alec stepped into the bathroom. Holly was glad she’d worn the towel around her midriff; it barely reached the bottom of her bum, though. But she needn’t have worried. Alec was as white as a sheet.

“Alec?” She dropped her wooden comb into the washbasin and stepped towards him.

“I know who the kidnapper is,” he said.

“What?”

“It’s Kit Gillespie. The father of the Sandbrook girls.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I… I need to call Canning again, and I need a sample of Gillespie’s voice,” he said, his eyes wide as he stared at her.

Holly tightened the knot holding up her towel. “I think you should leave that up to Canning. Here, sit down and drink some water. You’re shaking, Alec.”

He was shaking all over. It was as if he’d just stepped inside from sub-zero temperatures just clad in his pants and t-shirt. He hadn’t put anything on after he’d gotten out of bed. To her surprise, he allowed her to guide him to sit on the edge of the tub, and while she filled a glass of water for him, he leaned forward with his hands on his knees to control his breathing.

He sipped the water when she gave it to him.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

She brushed her wet hair back.

“Tell him. Go on,” she said, although she didn’t know why the father of the murdered girl would want to exact his revenge on the inspector in charge of the case rather than the main suspect who got away. She could understand the man’s frustration, but surely he must have read Ollie Stevens’ story in the papers. So revenge seemed a bit misplaced.

Alec finished his water and stood once she’d made room for him. To her big surprise he kissed her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.

She smiled. “Go.”

-:-

Half an hour later, Alec returned to the flat with a plate of sandwiches balanced on top of a pot of soup. He was dressed in a thick jumper and jeans. Together with the neatened hair and the pronounced five-o’clock shadow he seemed to be a completely different man.

“Hey, you,” he said as she opened the door for him.

“This looks delicious,” she said, her stomach contracting around the emptiness.

“Canning is looking into it,” Alec said. “I’ll have to make a trip to the station later on, to compare the voices. It’s too bad I didn’t record the call when I got it,” he said.

“Are you afraid that it’s wishful thinking?” Holly asked. She knew she would be.

“I’m quite sure it’s him,” he insisted.

“But why now?” Holly asked, taking the plate off the top of the pot, where it had served as a lid. The lentil soup was clearly homemade, and Mrs Coulter had added a few slices of fresh crusty bread to go with it, on top of the sandwiches.

“No idea,” Alec sighed, putting the pot down on the stove. He turned it on to reheat the soup.

“Umm,” Holly began, wrapping her thick, grey cardie tighter around herself. “I… I don’t want to monopolise you. There must be… What about your father and your ex?”

He opened a cabinet to get a pair of soup bowls and two plates for the sandwiches. “I told them. They’re all downstairs in the guest lounge.”

“As I said, I don’t want…”

He put the crockery down on the breakfast bar, then reached across it to seal her lips with his fingers. “I’m monopolising you. You’ll have plenty of time later on to meet them. For now, I want to have you to myself.”

Holly smiled, a warm fluttering sensation spreading in the pit of her stomach. “All right.”

“How did you get away from school so easily?”

“I emailed the office about a personal emergency,” she said, shrugging. She slid onto one of the stools.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. I didn’t believe you for a moment when you said you didn’t want me here.” She felt slightly guilty because the previous night she’d dismissed the idea of travelling to Scotland. But that was before she’d learned about the cheap flights and short journey. Hell, she’d probably have come up here anyway.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He took her bowl and ladled soup into it. “I’m… I don’t know how to deal with this.” He put a full bowl down in front of her. The soup smelled delicious.

Alec slid onto the stool across from her, not filling his bowl.

“Aren’t you going to eat something?” she asked gently.

Alec reached for one of the sandwiches. “I’m so bad at this.”

“No. You’re distraught. Two entirely different things.” Her stomach rumbled again.

He chuckled. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

Holly began to eat the soup. It was delicious, a lot creamier than her mother’s lentil soup. Alec ate too, taking great care to chew. She watched him take his meds.

“On second thought, I don’t like the idea of you alone with my folks. Would you take me to the station instead? It’s not as foggy out as it was yesterday. You do drive?”

Holly nodded, stunned.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re so different.”

It was his turn now to look surprised. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Not sure yet,” she said.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted. “And being here did me good.”

“You look a lot better. And I’m not talking about the hair,” she said.

Alec grinned. “You like it though?”

She nodded, breaking a chunk off the crusty bread to dip it into the soup.

The smile disappeared from his face as quickly as it had appeared there. “I can’t stop thinking about Teresa. I’m hoping she’s warm and fed, and safe. That he’s treating her well. She’s an innocent after all.” He looked up at her. “Why make her suffer when he really wants to get at me?”

“Maybe he wants to make you feel what he felt initially, when he had no idea where his girls were,” Holly mused.

He stared at her, the colour draining from his face as he obviously went through all the possibly scenarios in his head. “You don’t think…?” He went completely pale and retched. Clamping his hand over his mouth, he rushed off to the bathroom, where she heard him cough and throw up.

 _Well done, Holly, well done,_ she thought, standing to check on him. He’d not only lost the food he’d forced down — he hadn’t fooled her — but also his meds. _Shit._

Clearly, he had pictured her raped and killed. And he’d have to live with those images forever, because ultimately it was his fault.

As if killing Teresa would bring the Gillespie sisters back, Holly thought, sighing as she crouched beside Alec and rubbed him between the shoulder blades. He pulled the lever and sat heavily on the cold tiles. Holly lowered the lid of the toilet.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No. I’d have thought of it sooner or later,” he said, panting. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and he looked ashen once more.

“Tell me what to do,” Holly said, helpless. “Are you feeling light-headed?”

“It’ll pass,” he groaned, tipping his head backwards against the wall.

“Clean your teeth when you feel better,” she said.

“Aye, mother,” he grumbled.

Holly recoiled at his tone.

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“Clean your teeth,” she commanded. “Then you’ll have another bite to eat, take your meds, and then I’ll drive you to the station.” Her tone brooked no argument, and to her surprise it seemed to be exactly what he needed. It occurred to her that he was so distraught that he found it hard to deal with the simple mechanics of life at this point. She couldn’t blame him.

Holly left to give him some privacy while he pulled himself together. She finished her soup, and when he joined her a few minutes later, he ate a few bites and took his meds. Again. “Shall we?” she asked when she saw he’d had enough.

“Aye,” he sighed.

He took her hand as they were about to leave the flat. “Thank you, Holly.”

She smiled softly at him.


	21. Twenty-One

Part 3  
Home

Twenty-One

Iain had insisted they take the lumbering Defender for the journey to the police station because it had the most powerful fog-lights in the stud’s fleet, and the grip of the tyres was unparalleled. The pleasant silence in the car was occasionally interrupted by the sound of someone inhaling to say something, thinking better of it, and keeping quiet. To Alec it made Iain’s large Defender feel almost claustrophobic and he wished that he were driving so he could use the need to concentrate as an excuse for his silence. Holly was steering the strange car confidently. 

Still, he was sitting with his arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to keep his racing heart from breaking out of its protective cage. He’d once opened his mouth to say something, guilty himself of breaking the silence. Now his jaw was set.

At a crossroads, Holly had looked briefly at him before checking that the road was clear. It was, of course, at this time on a Sunday night, in this kind of weather. She’d frowned at his tense posture, probably wondering if he disapproved of her driving. He’d smiled briefly at her and lowered his hands to his lap, but soon he’d felt his heart trying to escape again and folded his arms over his chest again.

Em and Flo sat in the rear seat, after they’d removed Mick’s blanket. Turning around to check on them, he saw that their hands were clasped in the expanse of the centre seat. He looked at Holly, wishing their fingers could be equally woven together, closing some of the distance between them. He knew that her touch would give him comfort and his grief would be shared. Now that they were on the road he felt himself opening up to her, to do what had been unthinkable in the privacy of his bed. Alec felt horrible for pushing her away and turned his gaze away from her to stare out into the milky blackness of the night. The first lights of the town were coming into view. He’d have to break the silence soon to give her directions; there was no SatNav in the Defender.

The police station was as empty as the streets although the bells had already sounded in the pubs; the previous night’s rowdiness seemed like a bad dream. Alec knew from experience that the services of the police wouldn’t be needed that night, not for major incidents, anyway; it would be car accidents and lost pets in weather like this.

“You are, of course, aware of the implications of your allegation?” Canning asked. He looked like someone who’d had a decent rest, and Alec resented him for it all the more. Shouldn’t he be out looking for his daughter?

Alec nodded briskly.

“It’s why we came,” Em said. “The three of us were on the Sandbrook case. We know Kit Gillespie quite well.”

“All right,” Canning said, opening the door to an interview room, in which a second recording device had been set to replay one of the conversations with Gillespie. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked when he noticed Holly lingering in the hall.

“It’s a bit crowded in there,” she said. “Unless you want me to come?” she asked, seeking Alec’s eyes.

Alec nodded. He was sick of doing this by himself, and Em and Flo knew him well enough that he didn’t need to pretend he was strong. He held out his hand for her, but instead of taking it when Holly was by his side, he guided her to sit in a chair with his hand at the small of her back. Holly, however, reached over to cover his right hand with hers, and he acknowledged her touch with a brush of his thumb. Em’s and Flo’s fingers were still interlaced.

Canning followed protocol to the letter and made the usual opening statements for the record before he pressed the play button and the announcement was repeated, this time by Alec. He still hadn’t gotten used to hearing his own voice, and he turned his hand so Holly’s slid into his palm and he had her strength to anchor himself.

Then Gillespie answered his question, and he sat upright. There was no doubt. “It’s him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you think him capable of something like this?” Canning continued.

“Absolutely,” Flo replied before anyone else had the chance. Alec was glad; she wasn’t related to Teresa. It occurred to him that he had no idea if Teresa got on with Flo.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I was the family liaison officer at the time,” Flo said. “I spent a lot of time with the Gillespies, plus I have a psychology degree.”

Alec nodded. “I’ve always trusted her instincts.” It was true. He’d wished, more than once, that Flo had been there to work with the Latimers rather than the bumbling beginner they’d given him.

Before Canning could reply, Alec’s phone rang. It was the generic ring tone, and for a heartbeat he froze.

Everyone looked at him. He accepted the call and hit the speaker button. Standing to be able to hold it closer to the mic in the hopes of a good recording, he released Holly’s hand, thus losing the comfort he’d been getting from her.

“Dad?” 

His stomach dropped several storeys and he felt dizzy. “Teresa, darlin’.”

“Resey!” Em cried out from behind him, bringing him back to the present. He looked up and into Canning’s grey eyes. They needed to triangulate the call if they wanted to find her as soon as possible. With chair legs screeching on the stone floor, Canning stood to leave.

“Mum?”

“I'm here, love. How are you?”

Her voice shook when she said she was okay. His little girl was being brave. How he wished she didn’t have to be. She’d be scarred for life by this experience. Bile and anger rose in him.

“Is Ruby all right? And Moray?”

Alec marveled at her concern for the others, given her situation, but he also understood that she needed to know they were safe so she could stop worrying. “They're all right. Don't worry about them. Where are you, darlin’?”

“I mustn’t say. He has a knife. It’s digging into my throat,” she said.

Alec closed his eyes. Her words triggered his wild imagination. She was not all right. Of course she wasn’t. He’d better stick to protocol. Hell, he shouldn’t even be doing this. Where was Canning? 

“What does he want?”

“The Sandbrook murderer. Tried and put to justice.”

“I cannae do that.”

His answer provoked the desired reaction. It had always been easy to get him to talk. “Yes, you can,” the kidnapper’s voice boomed through the sophisticated speakers of his expensive smartphone. It was Gillespie. One look at Em and Flo confirmed it.

“We don’t have sufficient proof,” he said patiently. He needed to play for time now, to give the techies a chance to triangulate the call.

“You did well enough with the Broadchurch lad,” Gillespie said.

“That was completely different. But I promise you, we haven’t abandoned your case,” Alec said, meaning it. He himself wanted closure and needed to get the bastard who had so cruelly killed the Gillespie twins behind bars. Preferably forever.

“Liar.”

“What?”

“How can you promise something like that when you’re not even here to do your job, eh?”

“Believe me, I can. There was a whole team, as you might remember. They feel about your girls the same way I do. I am a father too, you know.”

“Aye. It’s why I have your little girl. To give you an idea of what it’s like to lose a child. Although you might be lucky.”

Alec’s mouth was dry, and he desperately tried to swallow. “Might be lucky?”

Deep breathing filled the air as silence fell. Teresa’s breathing was quick and filled with a squeak of protest, while Gillespie’s was rushed and much louder. “Please, listen to me,” Alec said.

More silence was his reward.

Then the door to the interview room opened and Canning came in with a brisk nod. Alec wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture, but he was glad to be able to hand the conversation over to him. He felt panic rising in him. Like a polaroid, the image of Teresa with a knife to her throat was becoming clearer by the second.

Gillespie’s nervousness, or awareness that he didn’t really know what he wanted, grew accordingly, and he ended the call.

“Fuck!” Alec yelled, driving his flat palm against the veneer of the table top so hard that he felt every single bone in his hand. It hurt, and the pain brought clarity. He noticed everyone’s shocked expressions. He massaged his aching hand and stumbled back into the chair.

“Ditto,” Em murmured, reaching out for his hand before Holly had a chance to do so.

“I think coffee is in order,” Holly decided. “Or tea.”

“Morgan will get you some from the kitchen. Don’t use the vending machine. The stuff’s poison,” Canning said calmly after hitting the pause button. He forgot, Alec noticed dumbly, to record the pause.

-:-

They were sent home.

Canning insisted on giving them an escort, so Holly drove back to Brochwinnie following a marked police car. The atmosphere in the Defender was no less tense than it had been on the trip to town, but there was at least a hint of relief. They knew that he’d been right about Gillespie.

Alec couldn’t even begin to say how glad he was that his attempt to provoke Gillespie into cutting into the conversation had worked. While Alec would have liked to talk to Teresa more, to make sure that she really was all right, he was glad that he had an answer to the who and why.

He had to admit that he understood Gillespie’s motive, and he felt somewhat guilty for the pride he felt over the Broadchurch success. If it hadn’t been all over the papers, just as his earlier failure had been, Teresa wouldn’t have been kidnapped. She’d suffer from this all her life. She’d find it hard to trust people. She might want to change her life completely, might turn to drugs or hurt herself. She’d certainly feel guilt.

Alec balled his hands into fists.

“Alec, love.”

He blinked and gasped. Air filled his lungs painfully, violently. The pressure on his chest became unbearable. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He needed to be strong for Teresa. He had to find the proof to put him behind bars. That alone would save his child’s life.

The knife at her neck.

It was an image he wasn’t going to forget. Ever.

He gasped again. The heaviness on his chest was growing, and he released the safety belt.

“Alec!”

“I…”

The world went dark around him.

-:-

The blinking lights were confusing, and he closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath. The pressure in his chest was gone.

His left eye was forced open and someone blinded him with a light.

He moaned.

“Alec?” a strange voice asked.

He groaned again in an attempt to say something rude. A mask was covering his face, and he inhaled deeply the sharp, sweet oxygen. He had to admit that the aid was welcome.

“Alec!”

That was Holly’s voice. He raised his hand to pull the mask off his face.

“Holly.”

A smile was in her voice when she said, “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he replied, looking at her. She looked concerned, but she managed to smile. The blinking lights were still there, and there were shadows of people moving around them. He’d been in a car. With several people. Had they had an accident? “Are ye all right?”

Holly guffawed. “I am now that you’re conscious.”

He didn’t understand. “What happened?”

“You had an episode.”

Ah.

Oh.

“How bad?”

“Thankfully, not too bad, but the uniform insisted on calling the ambulance anyway. They’re going to hospitalise you.”

“Nae fucking chance,” he protested.

“He’s feeling better.” That was Em. “He’s back to cursing already.”

“We have to take him to hospital,” a strange voice insisted. Probably one of the paramedics.

“I’m nae going to hospital. My wee girl needs me,” he insisted.

“We’ll make sure he gets some rest,” Em said.

“I cannae do that, ma’am,” the paramedic said.

“I’ll sign anything,” Em said, holding out an impatient hand.

The paramedic sighed. “I don’t like this.”

“Noted,” Flo added. 

“Holly,” he whispered. He’d love some more oxygen. He tugged at the mask. She placed it over his mouth and nose. He tried not to breathe too greedily. He didn’t want to prove the paramedic’s point.

“You’d better go with them, Alec. Please. You’ll be no use to Teresa dead.”

“I’m nae going to die.”

“I believe you.”

“Then let me sleep in my own bed tonight. With you. Please,” he pleaded. He actually _pleaded_. Surely, she must understand that he never pleaded?

Holly seemed torn, but she sighed. “All right.”

“Thank you.”

The paramedic paused. “Wait. What exactly is your relationship?”

“I’m his ex-wife,” Em explained, “and this is Alec’s partner. She’s going to take good care of him.”

Alec looked at Em. She looked as determined as ever; it was this quality that had drawn him to her in the first place. She was such a strong, independent woman, but he also knew that despite that bravery, she also needed a shoulder to lean on. Hopefully, Flo knew and provided that for her.

“Alec, how are you feeling?” the paramedic asked.

Alec managed to pluck the mask from his face, and he managed to speak evenly. “Better. I really just want to go home. My daughter has been abducted and I want to be there when she comes home.”

“They’re really close,” Flo added.

The paramedic grimaced, then left the ambulance. It only occurred to him now how crowded the space was with the three women and the paramedic. He was glad he was strapped to the stretcher.

“Are you really all right, Alec?” Holly asked.

“Nothing a cuppa and a cuddle couldn’t fix. Honestly,” he said.

“You still seem a little short of breath.”

“I…” He didn’t want to admit he’d feel better if he shared his fears with her in the presence of the others. But Flo was a psychologist, and if anyone, she'd know how to assuage his fears about Teresa's future. “I had a vision of what Teresa’s going through, and how it will affect her in the future and it scared me so badly. It took my breath away.”

“Oh Alec,” Em said, her voice close to a sob. He shouldn’t have said that. Clearly, she’d been thinking about it too, and quite probably, she’d been discussing it with Flo. Had she wanted to keep it from him, bless her?

“We’re going to do everything in our power to help her cope, yeah?” Flo said. “She’s a strong girl, and you have a wonderful relationship with her. I’m sure she’ll trust you to help her.” 

But the thing was that he needed to be strong for her, and he wasn’t sure, given his breakdown, that he could do that.

“I’ll stay with you,” Holly said, her tone brooking no argument as well as promising the comfort of her body; as much or as little of it as he wanted.

He yawned.

“Well, that decides it. We’ll get you home,” Em said.

Somehow, the women took over from there, and eventually he found himself strapped into the back seat covered in the orange blanket borrowed from the ambulance, with Em by his side. Flo had taken his place beside Holly, who was driving them the rest of the way home guided by the panda car. Again, the drive was ruled by silence.

By the time he closed the door to the flat behind him, Alec was in that strange state between physical exhaustion and mental overdrive. In the olden days, both he and Em had found sex a great cure; the rhythmic slapping of their bodies banished their thoughts and the rush of contentment after their orgasm eased them into sleep more quickly than any sleeping pill.

It was, of course, not an option now.

Not with Em.

She’d get her release with Flo. He knew Em well; she was restlessness personified, but her eyes were small and ready to close. Flo was going to take care of her. Oddly, for the first time the idea of Em having sex with someone else did not bother him as much as it used to. He was glad, even, to know that Em had someone to rely on.

He wasn’t so sure about himself, however. Holly was here, and she’d shared his bed earlier, but their relationship was not solid enough to assume that he could seek comfort in sex with her. Besides, he’d just suffered an episode, not a syncope, just a panic attack, the paramedics had said, and he wasn’t sure he could focus on sex. Or get hard in the first place, knowing that Gillespie was holding a knife to Teresa's throat.

Which raised the question of where she was going to sleep.

“In your bed,” she replied. “I promised to stay with you, remember? And I didn’t just say that to appease the paramedics.”

“Obviously,” Alec said, albeit with a relieved smile. “I was hoping you’d say — and do — that.”

She returned his smile. “It’s what I’m here for, eh? I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to go through this by yourself.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. Was she saying this just as a friend? “About the other night. On the phone.”

“Yeah?”

He had her full attention. “I meant what I said. About wishing I could hold you.”

“I’m here now,” she said, smiling.


	22. Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

He made an awkward move, his arms twitching to take her up on her offer, but unsure if she was ready to make good on her promise so soon. Holly stepped towards him and drew him into her arms, which seemed comical at first because he was so much taller. That fact wasn’t made any easier to deal with when she remembered how tall Em was.

Em was the opposite of her: tall, slim, and dark; her eyes a startling blue. Her nose was much more graceful than her own, and her mouth small but perfectly proportioned. And she had Alec’s freckles to match. Whereas Holly felt she was a bit too curvy in places, and she wished she had Em’s nose. Her own hair and eyes were an indistinct brown. Em and Alec looked so good together, and seeing him interact at the station with his former team members — and wife — had made her feel somewhat out of place.

She dug her fingers into his back as she tried to keep a grip on herself. She’d come here to help Alec; she had to be strong for him. But as soon as things returned to normal they needed to sit down and talk. Or maybe she should just return to her pre-Alec life in Broadchurch once Teresa was found, and leave Alec to his family life.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured. He pressed his lips into her hair. “Thank you. I could never have asked for it.”

Holly squeezed her eyes shut in shame. “Why not?”

“Well, until the other night I wasn’t sure where we were,” he said. “I loved it. Making love over the phone.”

_Making love._

It hadn’t just been phone sex to him.

When she withdrew, he looked startled at the sudden separation. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked softly.

 _You said exactly the right thing._ “Making love?” she echoed.

“Too much?”

“No, just…”

“I love you,” he said.

Her head snapped up to look at him, to check the veracity of his words in his eyes. They were restless, but wherever they went, they carried the three words with them.

Holly remembered to breathe.

“I should have said it much earlier, preferably on the beach that morning,” Alec said. “And I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you by not saying them. What you told me about Karen, it made me love you even more, and I am sorry for pushing you away instead of telling you.”

The cynic in her was tempted to think that he spoke only from raw emotion. He was lonely, and he needed someone to carry him through this.

“Holly?”

“I…” she began, smiling helplessly to show him that she was just lost for words. “I saw you with your team earlier, and I wasn’t sure if I was even wanted. Apart from being the designated driver.” And she was glad she’d been there to drive them, particularly after Alec’s panic attack. She hadn’t even trusted Flo to drive safely because she had no idea how close she and Teresa were.

“I want you here very much,” he said. “I _want_ you.”

Alec’s gaze was so intense that she found it hard to meet it, and she had to look away. “We shouldn’t be discussing this now,” she said. Neither of them was in a state to be discussing something so important.

“I suppose not,” Alec conceded. “But it’s true what I said earlier. I lo—“

She closed his mouth with her hand on his lips. “Please, Alec.”

For a moment she was afraid he’d not leave well enough alone, but then he nodded minutely, and she dropped her hand. 

“Can we still share a bed?”

She nodded slowly.

“I think,” she began, “we both could do with a shower. And sleeping naked, together.”

His blank expression morphed into a tentative smile, then into a grin. They both knew that, since he’d slept for the better part of the day, he’d be lying awake in her arms for most of the night. Also, they were so close to getting Teresa back. Hopefully. There’d be no sleep for him either way.

“I’d like that,” he said. “Thank you.”

She returned his smile.

“Any chance for a kiss?” he asked.

His shy question broke her resolve. How could she deny him, after his confession, and the state he was in? After all, she’d suggested sharing a bed, naked. She couldn’t well go and say no to a kiss. “I’d love that.”

He cradled her face tenderly, even ceremoniously, before he bent to kiss her. It occurred to her that kissing her, stooping to her height, must be unusual to him, since Em wasn’t that much smaller than him. There were what, ten centimetres, between them, at best, to her almost twenty?

The kiss erased the time they’d spent apart. His technique was familiar enough to evoke powerful memories, and she responded in kind, recalling what he’d seemed to like about the stroke of her tongue and press of her lips. He hummed against her before she opened up beneath him, and then his taste washed over her, and she could not hold back. She wanted him, all of him, so badly. He tasted exquisite, and he was present enough to show her what he wanted, but not dominant by any means. He didn’t pressure her.

She moaned as he flicked the tip of tongue against the roof of her mouth. 

And then, suddenly, it was over.

She grinned at him like one of the silly girls in her GCSE class.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I am now.”

He frowned. “Why weren’t you before?”

“D’you want a list?”

“Seriously, Holly.”

“Em’s beautiful,” she blurted.

“That she is,” he conceded. “But so’re you.”

She stared at him.

“Ye are,” he said. “You think I’m all emotional because of Teresa.”

She nodded minutely.

He bent to whisper to her, “I loved you before she went missing. I just wasn’t clever enough to tell you.”

She kissed him this time. It wasn’t as sweet and slow as his kiss, but it contained everything that she couldn’t voice. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him against her, the need to feel his warmth and take in his scent was overwhelming. Despite his distress, it was she who sought shelter with him. He gently eased her out of the kiss with a few gentle brushes of his lips against hers.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

She should be the one to ask him that. “Yeah. You?”

He smiled. “Aye. What about that shower and bed? I know I’m not the best of lovers tonight…”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said bravely. “I came to take care of you.”

“Thank you. No one has ever done anything like this for me before,” he said.

“Nonsense.”

“It’s true,” he insisted.

She could see in his eyes that he believed it, even if it wasn’t strictly true. “Well, I think I’ll take that shower,” she said to keep things light before they went to bed. Which didn’t mean that she’d forget about it.

“Aye,” he said, kissing her forehead. It was at a perfect height for him to do so, and she smiled to herself. “Now, about the shower.”

“I don’t think… I mean…”

“We’ll take them separately. I’ll shave while you’re in, so you can warm up the bed,” he suggested.

“You’re leaving me to do the hard work?” she teased. The idea of slipping between the cool sheets wasn’t particularly enticing, but then again she’d make it nice and warm for Alec to join her after his own shower.

“I suppose I—“

“Don’t you dare,” she laughed softly, swatting his arm lightly. “I’d love to do that, besides I’m ready to fall asleep on the spot anyway.”

“It’s been a long day,” he observed. “And you did all the driving. Thank you.”

“I’m glad I was able to make myself useful.”

His shower was surprisingly luxurious, and Holly felt guilty for taking a little longer under the powerful spray than absolutely necessary. To her surprise, he didn’t leave the bathroom as she undressed, but set about brushing his teeth. From inside the glass wall she watched him prepare his shaving utensils in the mirror.

“Shower?” he asked, letting his eyes slide over her nakedness in the process. He was in his underwear, and to both her delight and disappointment, he didn’t grow hard at her sight.

“Yeah, sorry.”

He grinned, then he started to lather his face up as she turned around and worked the taps. Her hair needed washing too, but she was too tired to deal with it now. So she avoided getting it wet, which would have relaxed her even more; Alec’s shower was amazing. The jets of water were powerful as they rained down on her, and she couldn’t wait to wash her hair underneath them. Having used up a little more of the hot water than necessary, she stepped out of it and straight into his arms. He was holding up an oversize towel for her and wrapped her in it. “Thank you,” she sighed.

He dropped a kiss onto her wet shoulder before stepping past her into the shower stall. Hopefully, there would be enough hot water left for him. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem this late at night, but there were Em and Flo to consider too.

She had been so lost in thought that it hadn’t occurred to her to have a look at him. It had been a while since she’d seen him naked, and wished she’d thought to refresh her memory. But it was too late for that now. She quickly dried off, put the towel on the heated rack, and went to his bedroom to warm the sheets for them. It turned out they weren’t that cold; in fact, the material was soft and cool, but it absorbed her body heat easily. In the growing warmth, she found it difficult not to succumb to the weight of her body as it tried to pull her into the realm of sleep. She wanted to wait for Alec to join her, to steal a kiss from him and feel his naked skin against hers.

“Hey, you,” he murmured, lifting the covers and startling her.

“Hey,” she replied sleepily.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Nah,” she sighed. “Wanna kiss you and fall asleep with your arms around me.”

“I’d love that,” he said, stretching out beside her. He bent over, keeping his weight off her with his left hand by her right shoulder, and lowered his face to hers for a kiss. He smelled absolutely delicious; the spice of his shower gel was softened into something milk-and-honey-like by his shaving cream. His mouth, on the other hand, was invigoratingly fresh, she supposed. She was too tired, but enjoyed the lazy movements of his cool tongue around her own.

“Are you falling asleep on me?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

He stroked her cheek. “Go to sleep, my love.”

“Good night,” she slurred.

“Thank you for being here with me,” he said, kissing her forehead. She felt him settle down beside her and she allowed him to mould her against him like a rag doll. 

-:-

Holly had no idea what it was like to fall asleep in his arms; she’d drifted off to sleep so easily the previous night that she’d had no chance to catalogue the feel of his body against hers, or the caress of his breath on her skin. Neither did she have an idea what it was like to come awake in his arms; his side of the bed was cold and empty when she finally fought her way through the layers of sleep the next morning.

She’d overslept. The first period would have started, to say nothing of Registration before that.

_Wait._

She’d taken a day off to be with Alec when he needed her.

Her eyes flew open.

“Alec?”

Groggily, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, brushing back the mass of her hair in the process; it needed washing.

The room was barely beginning to get light, although it was a bit too bright for the time of day. Holly checked the alarm clock on Alec’s bedside table. It was just gone half eight. It must be the fog. It had that rare quality of being painfully bright, particularly when she was driving, but at the same time foggy days tended to be gloomier than other days.

“Alec?”

She turned to look at her own bedside table. A folded note was lying there. Easing herself back into the pillows, she unfolded it.

_They have Teresa. There was a car crash earlier and I’m at the hospital with her. Call me asap. Please._

_Alec x_

Holly’s heart was thumping. A car crash. It wasn’t surprising in this kind of weather, but it was a heart-stopping thought anyway. And Alec had faced it alone.

_Wait._

There were Em and Flo. He’d have them for comfort.

Refolding the note, she dropped it onto her chest. Teresa seemed to be safe, if _they_ were the good ones.

“Thank God,” Holly sighed and closed her eyes. 

Which meant that she was no longer needed. Alec and Teresa and Em would want some time together now.

Suppressing the itch in her nose, she padded to the bathroom for another shower, this time mainly to wash her hair. Afterwards, she’d have a quick cuppa and call a taxi to take her to the airport. She’d call Alec from there to say goodbye; surely, he’d not expect her call as early as it was now. It had been late, after all.

To distract herself during her morning routine, which was usually the time of day when she allowed her thoughts to roam freely, she prepared the next day’s lessons and went through some of the upcoming projects at school and at home. Just as she had packed her few belongings, there was a knock on the door.

Alec had no reason to knock on his own door. Curious and despite her wish to be alone, Holly opened it, and found Iain standing there. His face lit up when he saw her.

“Good morning,” he said.

She forced a smile. It was going to be a bit more difficult to slip away. “Good morning.”

Iain went to the table in the hall, where he’d deposited a richly laden breakfast tray. Picking it up, he turned to her. “Iris sends me up with this. May I come in?”

“Of course. That’s very kind,” she said, hating herself being so bloody polite. All she wanted was to leave. Quickly and without being seen. But she couldn’t dismiss Mr Hardy’s kindness either.

Iain went past her and put the tray down on the breakfast bar, looking expectantly at her as she closed the door. He wasn’t even going to leave so she could escape.

“Teresa’s fine,” he began, pouring her a cup of tea. She noticed that there was a second one for him. “Just a bit of a shock and some cuts and bruises. She’ll be back by tomorrow morning. They’re keeping her to make sure she isn’t concussed.”

Holly’s smile was genuine. “I’m glad to hear that. What happened?”

“Well, after the police triangulated Resie’s call they went straight to the place. Somewhere in the back of beyond. Disnae matter. Gillespie tried to run with her, but you know what the conditions were like last night. He ended the journey against a tree. Luckily, Resie was in the back of the car, with her seatbelt on. She got shaken about a bit, but Gillespie was more seriously injured,” Mr Hardy explained. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Umm,” Holly began. “Just sugar, please.”

“Help yourself, lass. Ye must be starving,” he said kindly, with a flourish. There were eggs and toast on the tray, as well as some yoghurt and fruit and cereal. Holly reached for the glass of orange juice first, forgetting that it would taste vile so soon after brushing her teeth.

“We’re glad you’re here,” Mr Hardy said, preparing his own tea. “Iris and me, that is. Mrs Coulter.”

Holly smiled briefly.

“And Emma too. Resie’s mother,” he clarified.

She buttered a slice of toast to appease him. He seemed to genuinely care, and she didn’t have it in her to be rude. Maybe she could turn him into an ally, depending, of course, on the true nature of his relationship with Alec.

“I’m glad I could help. But I’ll have to leave first thing after breakfast,” she said.

Mr Hardy looked shocked. “So soon? We were hoping you’d catch a later flight and have lunch with us. After all, you played no small part in getting Resie back.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sighing, he understood that she had dropped everything to come up here. “It’s such a shame. Well, you’re coming back Christmas.” There was such finality to his words that Holly understood why Alec found his dominance difficult to deal with. At the same time, she was glad to hear that he accepted her so easily.

“I’m sorry to disappoint again. I’m spending Christmas with my mother, in Meregate,” she said between bites of toast.

“But surely, you can come for Hogmanay, at least? So we can get to know you better.”

Again, Holly was surprised at his persistence. “You seem very eager to have me here.”

“Aye, well,” he said, frowning. “You’re my son’s partner.”

“I’m…” she began. She had no idea what she was. “I’m sorry, Mr Hardy, I really need to get going.”

“Of course. I’ll have Patrick drive you to the airport. Does Alec know?”

“I’ll call him en route.”

His gaze softened. “You should wait.”

“I can’t, Mr Hardy.”

He reached for her hand. “Please. You just call me Iain.”


	23. Twenty-Three

Twenty-Three

Alec toed off his boots in the hall as he’d been taught to by his Mum as a wee lad. In the process, he nearly stumbled over his own feet hurrying toward the breakfast room. Hopefully, Holly would still be there, kept busy by Mrs Coulter. She’d called him twenty minutes earlier at the hospital to let him know that Holly was awake. He’d asked her to before he’d left for the hospital, and he was grateful that she’d followed through.

He saw Holly’s overnight bag sitting on the floor beside the table. It had a Union Jack-design in pink, turquoise and white, scattered with flowers and butterflies and cursive writing. She’d be able to carry it onto the plane with her; no need to leave it at the bag drop.

She was ready to leave.

Holly was just standing as he burst into the warm room. To his surprise, his Dad was with her, rather than Mrs Coulter. “Holly.”

She looked at him as if he’d just caught her red-handed. He was sure now that she’d intended to leave without saying goodbye to him. “Holly,” he repeated.

“Alec,” she said, brushing back a loose lock of her hair. “Is Teresa all right?”

“Aye,” he said.

Holly smiled. “I’m glad.”

“You’re leaving already?” he asked.

“I really have to go back home.”

“I’ll just… go… um,” his Dad said, pointing at the door as he got up.

Alec inhaled deeply as he watched his father leave and close the door behind himself to give them some privacy. Hopefully, none of the other guests would burst in.

“You were leaving without saying goodbye,” he said, mustering his courage. “Why?”

“I’d just be in the way. Now that you have Teresa back.”

He felt his jaw drop. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “Your father promised to take me to the airport.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Alec. You need to—“

“I need to be with you!” he thundered. When he saw her shocked expression, he took another steadying breath. “I’m sorry. I need to be with you, Holly.”

“Your family needs you now.”

“They’re fine. Em and Flo are at the hospital with Teresa. They send their love, by the way.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Why did you really want to leave?” he asked after a short pause.

“I don’t want to get in the way.”

He took his time before replying. He wondered what people had done to her to give her such a low opinion of her importance in his life. “Ye won’t. I want ye here.”

Holly sighed. “I really need to get to the airport.”

“When’s your flight?”

“It’s not until after noon.”

“So you can stay here for a little while yet, aye?” he said, catching himself ordering her about as the words left his mouth. “Please.” He stepped towards her to take her hand. “Or at least kiss me goodbye. Or is that…?”

She ducked her head. He caught a whiff of her shampoo, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes to take in the smell. Images of making love to her popped up in his mind, images he intended to add to and make clearer. If she’d let him.

“What happened?”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“What happened? Or what did I do to drive you away? Was it too much after all, telling you how I feel about you?” If that was the case, he’d curse himself forever, but at the same time he wondered what she wanted. He’d not told her that he loved her when he should have, and now that he had it seemed to have been the wrong thing to do.

“No. It wasn’t. It’s just that there’s still so much going on between you and Em.”

He sighed. He had to admit that he had no idea what to make of that either. Ever since Teresa had gone missing, he’d felt a close connection re-form between him and his former wife. “I suppose that’s because we’re her parents, and Teresa’s well-fare comes first. No matter how Em and I feel about each other. When it comes to Teresa, we… we are a team, if you will.”

“Ah.”

“Is that so… outlandish?”

“It is surprising.”

“I don’t suppose you get to see many separated parents overcome their differences when it comes to their bairns,” he said.

She shook her head. Most of the time, divorced parents tended to use their children as pawns in the conflict.

“We wouldn’t do that.”

“No. You’d rather your only child hated you than allow her to think badly of her mother,” Holly said.

He took a deep breath.

“It’s pretty stupid.”

He smiled helplessly. His decision had caused all of them a lot of grief. But that was over now. “I’m not trying to get Em back. Neither is she going to leave Flo.”

Holly pursed her lips.

“I meant what I said last night.”

“What did you say?”

“I love you. And I want you here because you’re brilliant and the best thing that has happened to me since Teresa was born.”

Holly gasped.

He stared at her, not quite believing what he’d just said, but now the feelings were out there, and they were hers to take.

The silence between them lengthened. It was probably too late now for her to catch the mid-morning flight to Bristol. He reached out to cup her cheek, and to his relief she didn’t flinch away from his touch.

“I don’t trust my happiness,” she said before he could ask her what it was she was so afraid of.

His heart skipped a beat. Had she just implied that she was happy? With him? “Ye are? Happy, with me?”

“I feel like I can be myself with you. I don’t have to hide. So yeah,” she said. “I am… happy.”

That fact alone would have broken his heart if it weren’t bursting with joy over what she’d said. He was the reason she felt happy. He’d never have thought to be the source of such pleasure to someone else. Ever. He felt the beginnings of a huge grin exercise muscles in his cheeks and in the corners of his eyes that he’d thought had atrophied from neglect. “Ye are?”

She smiled softly to herself. Then she reached to cover his hand on her cheek with her own. The warmth of her hand made him want more. “I am.”

He made a strange, gleeful sound in the back of his throat, which in turn elicited a chuckle from her. “I’m such an idiot,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for causing you so much grief.”

“Forgiven and forgotten,” he said, bending his head to touch his forehead to hers. “Does that mean you’re going to stay a while longer?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

He felt a shiver run through her at his words.

“I want to make love to you.”

“What about—“

“This once, the world will have to wait,” he said. He didn’t ordinarily allow himself to feel as if he deserved something, so he was a bit surprised at himself, but he decided just this once to be a little bit selfish. He tilted his head to kiss her, holding her tightly as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispered close by her ear, taking her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist. To his surprise, she allowed him to guide her up the stairs.

They didn’t speak at all as they undressed each other. He’d missed that ritual when they’d made love over the phone, particularly since his memory hadn’t had enough to go on. Their relationship was still new, and so raw. He was amazed that Holly went along with him, and he hoped she wasn’t doing it just to please him. Now was not really the time to talk about it, but he also knew that he had to know if he wanted to be able to commit completely to her, and receive her trust in return.

“Is this okay with you?”

“Is what okay?” she asked, dropping her hands to her sides just as she was about to undo the clasp of her bra.

“Me taking the lead. I want you to enjoy this and not feel… you have to do this.” God, he was rubbish at this.

“I want to do this,” she said.

“But you… you’ll tell if there is something you want, aye?”

She smiled, touched. “I will. That’s very sweet of you. David—“

His eyes widened at the name. “Is that the bloke who wouldn’t go down on you?”

She nodded. “Sorry, I have no idea why I mentioned him.”

“He’s nae competition,” Alec snorted. That did the trick. Holly laughed.

“No, he’s definitely not.” She kissed him. “But you know that it’ll take me a while to get used to the idea of us being equals.” Her voice rose at the end of the sentence as if in a question, and his heart constricted. It was beyond him how that man could have used her so. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why Holly was with him at all if he was so dismissive of her needs. Of her beauty and her character.

It was probably to avoid being lonely, although he knew that a quick fix only aggravated the problem. His need to be close to someone increased the more desperately he reached for it.

“I want to put you first whenever I can,” he said.

“But you’ll let me take care of you occasionally won’t you?” she asked.

He decided to be honest with her.

“I’d want the same in return,” Holly said, smiling.

“So all’s well?”

“All’s well.”

They kissed, and when he reached behind Holly he found to his boyish delight that he’d not lost his ability to unhook a bra with one hand. His other hand rested between her shoulder blades to hold her close. Holly moaned as he did something particularly clever with his tongue. He wished he’d been paying more attention to exactly what he was doing, but he was too swept up in the sensations. He’d have to experiment some more to find out what had pleased her so.

She had to step away from him to be able to take off her bra, and for the first time he really looked at her breasts. He’d seen them before, touched them and tasted them, but he’d never really taken them in. They were perfect in shape and size, so round and deceptively firm looking, capped by a rapidly hardening nipple that he wanted to taste again. Her skin was sweet and creamy, and when he touched her left breast he tried to commit the experience to memory, to hold forever. She was so warm and soft and fit the cup of his hand perfectly. His fingertips brushed the side of her breast and she shivered slightly; he catalogued that reaction at once.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, bending to kiss the top of her left breast lightly. “I wish we had more time. I’d love to explore every part of you.”

“We’ll have more time. We’re going to make more time,” she promised, brushing her fingertips against the side of his face so lightly it was his turn to shiver. “Right now I just want you.”

It was like this all the time. They wanted each other and promised to take their time the next time, but sometimes he wondered if there was going to be a next time. He was so scared of losing her. 

Alec moved on to kiss and caress the breast he’d neglected so far, taking in the scent of her skin after her shower. One of these days, he thought, I'll take a shower with her and work that scent of home into her skin.

“Alec,” she mumbled, her fingers touching the side of his face gently, more in encouragement than in guidance. He looked up at her.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“For now.”

She nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to. But it’s not long until Christmas, and you’ll come home with me after. Won’t you?”

Home. He had no idea where home was, but he didn’t dare assume it was a feeling rather than a place. He was unsure if he could attach the feeling of being at home with her to her just yet, no matter how strong it was. So he just nodded.

He wanted to be with her, and her job was in Broadchurch, her address the very same place where he’d spent his holidays as a teenager. “Is Broadchurch home?” he asked, looking up at her as he dropped onto his knees, sliding his hands down the sides of her body to rest them on her hips.

“I love my place. Thomas’ Cottage. I wonder why the owners don’t want it. It has so much potential,” she said.

He debated telling her that the memories it was home to came with complicated and confusing feelings. There was no doubt, however, that one day he was going to tell her about that first summer he’d spent there. “So that’s where your heart is,” he concluded.

She shook her head gently, “It’s with you.” She raked her fingers through his hair. “It’s so short. Your hair.”

“Too short?”

“A wee bit,” she said. “But I suppose it’s more you than the raggedy look.”

He smiled, kissing her stomach. Then he turned his head and pressed his cheek against it.

Holly shivered at the gesture. Then he peeled off her knickers.

He withdrew and looked down at her. “You haven’t grown it back,” he said, running his fingertips over the soft skin above her slit.

“I’ve never liked it.”

He kissed her there. He pushed carefully at her hipbones so she sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted to taste her. The feel of her soft skin against his lips and tongue was a rapidly fading memory, one that he didn’t want to fade. “Open your legs for me,” he said, rocking back to sit on his heels.

Holly didn’t follow his request at once; it had been a long time, and it wasn’t like he didn’t feel self-conscious too. He sat and took off his pants, revealing to her his rapidly hardening cock. Holly’s eyes widened at the sight, and she gasped softly.

“Better?” he asked. He knelt before her again, his hands lightly touching the sides of her knees.

Holly met his eyes and nodded, parting her legs slowly. The movement released the powerful scent of her arousal, and he took it all in. As she opened her legs, her labia did too, as if in invitation. But Alec only chose to caress her for the moment, to show her that there was nothing to be coy about. When she started to shift, to move closer to the edge of the bed, he bent to kiss her pussy. 

Holly rewarded him with a soft sound, and thus invited, he started to rediscover her. With one hand on her lower abdomen he pushed her back onto her elbows for better access, and he felt her shift again as she raised her left leg. He took hold of it by the back of her knee, supporting her and adjusting the angle a little.

Then he dipped into her.

Again, he was rewarded by that soft sound, albeit a little louder now.

Alec tried hard not to touch her clit for the moment, both to make her wait and lull her into a sense of security. When he flattened his tongue against her, he wanted it to be sudden, and he wanted her ready to come at that gentle touch.

Which she did.

Her hand had fallen away from the side of his head, but she gripped his hand on her thigh tightly as he brushed his thumb over her plump flesh. To his amazement, she reared as she came, only to flop back onto the bed when her pleasure became too much. Wiping her juices off his mouth, Alec rushed to lie beside and hold her as she recovered from her orgasm.

“I’ve missed this so,” he whispered to her, kissing her. His erection pressed against her hip, and he moved his pelvis against her for some friction. Her powerful orgasm had been incredibly erotic. But he couldn’t just push into her, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Holly laughed and looked at him. “Me too.”

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what she was referring to; having her pussy licked or having her pussy licked by him.

“You’re unbelievably good at that,” she said.

“That?”

“Eating me.”

“Ah. Glad to be of service.”

“Is it okay if I don’t return the favour?” she asked softly, kissing the tip of his nose. “I want you inside me so badly.”

“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. What he hadn’t expected, though, was that she’d push him back into the mattress to sit on him. His hands returned to her hips of their own accord as she took hold of his cock and guided its tip inside her. “Holly,” he gasped in surprise.

“That okay?”

He nodded. It was just happening unexpectedly fast. After everything that had occurred between them, he hadn’t dared dream that making love to her was going to be so swift and urgent. He arched into her, his eyes closed, as she slowly sunk down on and around him. Her wet heat was wonderful, and he wished they could be like this always.

When she rested against him, he forced his eyes open and sat up to wrap her in his arms. There was a chance to prolong the feeling of homecoming. He kissed her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Can we just stay like this?” he asked. “It’s so peaceful.”

“Of course,” she said, leaning her check against his head and caressing him lazily.

“Thank you.”

“I was so scared,” Holly said. “That you’d not want me, that I’d lost you.”

“So was I,” he said, lifting his head to look at her.

“Well then,” she said, caressing his cheek. “Here we are.”

“Aye.” He had to smile at her tender expression. He’d always dreamed of someone looking at him like this, so open and loving and vulnerable. It was something he’d never had with Em, no matter how strong his feelings had been for her at the time. He supposed that this was the difference between love and the love of one’s life.

Holly was, for lack of a less clichéd expression, his soulmate.

“What is it?” she asked.

His realisation must have shown on his face. He’d always been proud of having learned to school his expression. It was one of the things that made him a good copper. But with Holly, he didn’t feel he needed to hide. It was a liberating feeling. He told her.

“Oh,” was all she said.

He touched her lips with his fingertips. “Don’t say anything. I just wanted you to know, aye?”

She nodded her head.

He was still deeply buried inside her, but he had softened a little.

Holly still didn’t say anything, but she tightened her muscles around him experimentally, and he closed his eyes, accompanying the reaction with a sigh to let her know that he was all hers. She continued to clench around him, bringing him back to full hardness with kisses and words too. 

He didn’t hear them, they were so soft, but her tone was very erotic, and she probably didn’t mean for the words to make sense.

“Holly,” he whispered at one point. “Please.”

He managed to come only after she had, and when he did he bent her backwards in his need to push into her, to make sure that they were linked as closely as possible.

And they had not used a condom.

“It’s all right,” Holly said, once he was holding her upright again. “Don’t worry, Alec, it’s all right. We’re safe.”


	24. Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

Holly slumped against the door after she’d closed it behind her. It was good to be home, after all that had happened in Scotland it felt as if she’d been away for a week rather than just one night. Ellie had picked her up from the airport, to repay the favour,Holly had invited her and the boys for dinner at the weekend. She had also filled Ellie in on all the events in Brochwinnie, and her friend had been glad to hear that everything seemed all right.

“I fear, however, that Teresa might have to see someone to help her through the kidnapping,” Ellie said. “That’s not going to be easy, for all involved. It’s what makes any crime so horrible, the aftermath. But in Teresa’s case it’s doubly horrible. She’s an innocent, and she was used by that bastard to get back at Alec.”

“He feels horrible about it,” was all that Holly had said. He hadn’t told her that in so many words, but there was no doubt that the feeling was there. He was going to have an equally tough time getting through this.

Holly slid down the door onto the cold floor. That was what worried her so much. She thought, once more, that she should have stayed with Alec instead of running home. She wanted nothing more than to get on another plane to be with him.

It seemed unfair, and perhaps unwise to be separated again after what they had been through the past twenty-four hours. They needed to be near each other, to get to know each other and assure one another that what they had was real rather than just a fair-weather relationship with lots of great sex. They had reached a point in their relationship, or had indeed passed it, at which they needed to know that they could make it work on a longtermbasis. They’d both been hurt too much to go through that kind of uncertainty.

She fished her mobile out of her pocket. It was still set to airplane mode so she engaged it, and rang Alec.

“Hey you,” he said after only one ring. Of course, he’d have his phone within reach.

“Hey. Just wanted to let you know that I’m home,” she said.

“Aye, thanks. Did you have a good journey?”

“It was all right. I wish I hadn’t had to leave, though.”

“You and me both,” he sighed.

“How’s Teresa?”

“All right, as far as I can tell. I’ll take her home tomorrow,” he said.

“And you?”

He exhaled a shaky, drawn-out breath. “I’m a bloody mess.”

The admission shook her more than anything. It was unlike Alec to be so honest about his feelings. “I don’t know what to say. I hate that I’m here.”

“Aye.”

“We can talk if you want to. I’ll just… make myself a cuppa and crawl under my comfy blanket,” she said.

“Shall I call you back? So you can take a shower.”

“So _you_ get the chance to withdraw into your shell? Fat chance,” she said.

There was a guffaw at the other end of the line. “It’s scary how well you know me already.”

“Not scary. Just common sense. You don’t talk about your feelings much, so when you do, I have to seize the moment,” Holly said. “On the other hand… Please tell me if you don’t want to talk. I’ll just listen, if that’s what you need, without giving advice or judgement.” She was fairly certain that fear of her reaction was what kept him from confiding in her. For some, it was enough just to unburden themselves, and any response was unnecessary. But even that was difficult for them.

There was a brief pause before he said, “I feel responsible for what happened to Teresa, and what the consequences of it are going to be. If she develops an eating disorder or has anxiety attacks, it’ll be my fault, and I’ll always hate myself for wrecking her life. Again.”

Holly cupped her forehead in her palm. She hadn’t moved from her crouching position on the floor. “Do you want me to say something?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Teresa loves you. No matter what’s happened in the past few days. She’ll not blame you. Just… be there for her.”

There was another shuddering intake of breath. “I’m nae sure I can do that.”

Holly cupped her forehead as she propped her elbow on her knee. “Because you haven’t caught the murderer.”

“Aye.”

She hummed.

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I'm being an eejit. Of course I _can_ be there for her. I'm just scared she'll push me away because she was punished for something I failed to do. But I can do that. I _must_ to do it,” he said. “I wish you could have met her.”

“I’m sure we will eventually. But I also think that for the moment you need to focus on each other, to give her a chance to get used to the idea that you, too, have moved on,” she said.

“Ye’re not trying to talk yerself out of being with me again, are ye, Holly?”

He had her there.

“Because the thing is, I won’t let ye.”

She swallowed and dropped her hand. “That sounds a bit scary.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… the way I feel about you. I was hoping that we could use the physical distance between us to figure things out, to support each other and clarify what ‘us’ is before we see one another again,” he reasoned.

“Yeah.”

“Just tell me if it’s too much. The postcards, for instance. Or phone sex.”

“I love both.”

There was that funny little sound he made when he was overcome and surprised by her words. “Ye do?”

“I do. They give me something to look forward to. Although I can’t promise I’ll always be up for the phone sex. Touching myself just doesn’t work sometimes,” she said.

“Why ever not?”

Holly was amazed that they were discussing this delicate issue, over the phone. “Sometimes I want to come so badly that I just can’t, not at my own hands. I can’t let go, for some reason.”

He hummed. “Well, it’s not long now. I forgot to ask. What do you want for Christmas?”

It had been a while since someone apart from her Mum had asked her that. “I have no idea. What about you?”

“I want you.”

 _She_ should have said that. Holly bit her lip.

“Hey you?”

“Yeah?”

“Too much?”

“Not really. I should have said that. What does that say about my feelings?”

“It tells me that I’m being impatient.”

“Don’t you take the blame for that too,” Holly said.

“See, here we go again.”

They chuckled.

“Oh, Alec, what are we to do?”

“Love each other, I suppose, as best we can.”

“You’re a wonderful man, you know that? I can’t believe you’re part of my life now.” 

There was a beat’s or two silence. Holly realised that this time, she’d spoken what was in her heart, just like he had earlier.

“There,” Alec said.

“Yeah.”

She heard him smile, and smiled in turn.

“I’ll tell you what I want for Christmas. Apart from you. If there’s anything material that I can think of.”

“Spectacular,” he said.

-:-

“We were worried about you. _Are_ worried,” Nate said. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I am now, thanks.”

“Esther said something about a personal emergency?” he asked, his eyes showing true concern. 

It touched her, and while she was angry at the school secretary for her indiscretion, she decided to let Nate in on things. Later. “I’ll tell you after school, yeah?”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Any time you need to talk, eh?”

She smiled gratefully. “Did anything interesting happen? Any gossip I’ve missed?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, really. The police came in yesterday about the arsonist. Seems your friend Ellie is seriously considering your theory about the alumni.”

Holly pursed her lips. “I’d hate to be right.”

He snorted. “He’s terrorising us, and you feel sorry for him?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said. “I’d just be disappointed to have failed someone so badly that they feel we deserve to have our homes burned to the ground.”

“But it wouldn’t be your mistake, would it? You haven’t been here long enough.”

Holly stared at him. She’d spent enough time with Nate by now that she thought she knew him pretty well, but this judgmental side of him was one that didn’t suit him at all. “Did I step on your toes?”

“No, just saying. The bastard deserves to be punished.”

“I agree, but still, if it’s an alumnus, shouldn’t we stop to think why he felt compelled to commit these crimes?”

“Are you saying I’m a rubbish teacher?” he squeaked indignantly.

She had to tread carefully now. “Why, everyone knows that.”

He glared at her until he became aware of her lopsided grin. “You,” he muttered.

“Seriously, though.”

He frowned. “You just make it sound like it’s our own fault. I can’t imagine Mrs Rudd doing anything to warrant that kind of punishment. Grainger, on the other hand—“

They chuckled. “Even he doesn’t deserve that. No one does,” Holly said.

“Yeah, you’re probably right, love. As always. Grab a drink after school?”

“I’d like that,” she said, checking her watch. “Damn, is that the time? We should be going.”

That Tuesday, all the clocks and, consequently, the school bell didn’t work. Everyone checked their watches even more frequently than usual to make sure that they were on time. Of course, pupils had already managed to convince the more gullible teachers, regardless of whether they were wearing a watch or not, that the lesson was over. The staff had joked that it might be a good idea for the head to make an announcement over the PA to mark the start and end of each period. In Holly’s English class, the members of the light and sound club, always provided the drama group and orchestra with special effects, had offered their assistance.

Holly assigned her pupils a task to complete in silence, so she had a few minutes to let her thoughts wander before she needed to focus on marking the written work from one of her other classes.

While the alumnus idea had been hers, she wasn’t quite so sure about it any more. Something felt off about it, though she didn’t know why. The arsonist had gone to great pains to hide his deed. Someone with revenge on their mind wouldn’t care so much about concealing it; besides, arsonists were often people who wanted attention. Holly had a feeling that this arsonist was different.

If punishment were on their mind, they’d be more public about it, to make their victims, and everyone else, aware they were being punished for something they’d done. Instead, this arsonist was trying to cast the blame elsewhere, on someone close to the victim, someone who didn’t really have much of a motive.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered.

The boy facing her looked up, his eyes going wide. “Miss?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, James. I was talking to myself. I’m sure you’re doing fine. Unless there is something I can help you with?” she said.

He shook his head and bent over his books again.

It was true, though. It didn’t make any sense. The whole thing was carefully planned. The arsonist took a lot of care to find out about each victim. By blaming a third party, they not only distracted from themselves but also ensured that the relationship between the third party, an ex, say, and the victim was seriously damaged. It was arguably clever to do so, but really it didn’t fit the psychological profile of an arsonist. She’d done her homework.

Holly debated talking to Ellie, but she feared that Ellie might take offence at her continued interest in the case, that she might be suggesting that the police were rubbish. Which Holly didn’t think at all. Although Ellie had been patient and open-minded so far, Holly was sure she had her limits. What if she’d just indulged her in a misguided sense that she owed her over the betrayal to Alec?

“Miss?”

“Yes, Sandy?”

“Miss, it’s time to go I think. We’ll be late for Mr Grainger’s class.”

Holly quickly checked her watch. The girl was right. “Of course, I’m sorry. Finish this at home, please, and hand it in tomorrow. Tell Mr Grainger it’s my fault that you’re late, yeah?”

The class left the room in a hurry, and Holly leaned back in her chair with a sigh. One more period, then she was free to go. She wondered if there was a silent task she could set the next group of children, but on the other hand, talking to them would take her mind off the arsonist. She definitely needed to make arrangements to move her artwork and supplies, though. She hated feeling threatened like this.

Had she done something to warrant this feeling? She couldn’t think of anything, but people often reacted to seemingly minor offences in the most drastic ways.

-:-

“I am being paranoid, aren’t I?” she asked Ellie on the phone. She was standing by herself under one of the radiant heaters the pub had provided for the smokers, her coat wrapped tightly around herself. She’d excused herself from the others to make the call.

“Is there anything that you did as a teacher at South Wessex that makes you feel vulnerable?” Ellie asked.

Holly bit her lip. As far as she knew, no one apart from the Cinema Club was aware of her relationship with Karen. She told Ellie. “But you can never be sure, can you? People see you even when you think no one’s around.”

“That’s true,” Ellie conceded. “But I’m sure you didn’t make a public display of yourselves.”

“No.”

Ellie sighed. “We haven’t made any progress.”

“I know I shouldn’t be asking you, I really do. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. I don’t mean to get you into any trouble,” Holly reassured her.

“It’s not that. Well, part of it is, but you’re aware of it, so I’m not worried,” Ellie said. “I’m bloody furious. This case isn’t going anywhere because we don’t have any conclusive evidence.”

“So the arsonist will get away?”

“Unless he strikes again and makes a mistake, I think so, yeah.”

“That’s unbelievable,” Holly cried in frustration. It just wasn’t fair.

“I agree, but what can we do?”

Holly looked up and saw Nate standing there. “I’m sorry, Ellie. I’ll have to go. Someone’s bullying me into having another drink.”

“Lucky you, I’d say,” Ellie replied. “I wish someone would treat me like that.”

Holly bit her lip. She’d have liked to ask Ellie to join them, but she knew she wouldn’t have been able to because of the boys. “I’d invite myself to yours if it weren’t so rude.”

Ellie laughed. “It’s kind. I keep thinking I can’t ask other people round to mine all the time. It’s a bit awkward.”

Holly bit her lip. “I see what you mean. Let’s not discuss this over the phone, yeah?”

“Yeah. Enjoy the rest of the evening,” Ellie said.

Once she’d hung up, Nate looked at questioningly. “Well?”

“She says they haven’t made any progress,” Holly said.

“You don’t believe her?”

Holly shook her head, cupping her mouth with her free hand. “No, I don’t. But it’s okay, yeah? She’s not supposed to tell me anything. I think it’s time I accepted that.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “But you’re pestering her for a good reason. You’re scared, aren’t you.”

Holly clamped her hand over her mouth again, nodding this time. There was an awful itch in her nose, and she prayed she could hold the tears in. She felt so lonely.

“Come inside, love, it’s freezing,” he said, gently steering her past the smokers and to the stuffy warmth of the pub.

-:-

That night, Ellie’s home burnt to the ground.

Holly only learned of it the next morning, when Robin caught her at the school gates where she’d been waiting for her in the near-freezing drizzle. Her friend looked anxious, shifting from one foot to the other, so Holly quickened her step. She locked arms with her and together they went into the warmth of the school.

“What happened?” Holly asked, adjusting the straps of her bags on her free shoulder.

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what? No, I haven’t,” she said.

Robin told her.

Holly stopped dead, forcing the children behind them to flow past them like water around a rock. She had that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she should have known and, what was more, done something. “What?” she breathed.

“Didn’t you hear the sirens last night?”

“No, I was asleep as soon as I went to bed. I was exhausted,” Holly said. “Was it… was it arson?”

Robin nodded.

“And Ellie and the boys?”

“They were at Ellie’s sister’s for dinner.”

“Shit,” Holly said.

“What? Why, they were lucky they weren’t in when—“

“Robin, don’t you see? Ellie has a motive to burn down her own house,” Holly said. “This is so very not good.”

“You don’t think…?”

Holly scoffed at the preposterousness of the thought. “Of course not. Just because she has a motive doesn’t mean she’d do it any more than the other victims.”

“Well, her place really is in ashes. There’s nothing salvageable,” Robin said.

“Oh dear, poor Ellie.”

“Yeah,” Robin said.

Holly had to force herself to concentrate on her lessons even more than usual. She didn’t even notice that the school bell had been repaired.

Ellie’s loss was foremost on her mind. After she’d lost her home, she had now also lost her house. Her feelings about the latter had been mixed since the former had been disgraced. In a way, it must be a relief. Buildings held so many memories, and Ellie had debated finding a new place. That decision had just been made for her.

But the loss of all her belongings must be gutting. Her boys’ childhoods were gone when the flames consumed their photos. Their favourite toys and trophies were no more. The very safety of their lives had been violated. Holly couldn’t even begin to imagine the trauma Tom must have suffered as he stood, watching his home go up in flames after a fun night at his aunt’s.

Holly debated calling Ellie. Surely, she would get enough calls, and she didn’t want to be a burden, but she also wanted Ellie to know that she would help her in any way she could.

What was more, Ellie was off the case now that she had become a victim herself. Holly doubted that Dane was capable of catching the arsonist that had stumped Ellie.

Predictably, her call went to voicemail when she finally plucked up the courage to call Ellie. “Hello, Ellie. I heard. I’m so terribly sorry and horrified that someone would do this to you. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know,” she said, surprising herself with the coherence of her speech. Normally, she was terrible at leaving voice messages.

She also wondered whether she should call Alec. He was still recovering from the shock of his own near-loss.

Holly jumped when her phone rang. It took her two attempts to swipe her finger over the screen to accept the call. It was Alec.

“She’s being punished,” was the first thing he said. “She and the teachers. They are all being punished.”

“What? Slow down, love,” she said, sitting on the very edge of Nate’s chair. He wrapped his arm around her midriff to keep her from sliding off the worn wood.

Alec breathed in audibly. “They were punished. The arsonist is Kit Gillespie’s brother-in-law. He’s a retained firefighter with the Wessex Fire and Rescue Services.”

“How… how do you know?” Holly asked.

“It’s all over the police. One of our own was attacked, that usually causes quite a stir,” he said.

“So they know about Teresa too.”

“Aye.”

“I’m sorry, Alec.”

“Don’t be. I’ve got Teresa back, but Ellie,” she pictured him running his hand over his face as he gathered his thoughts, “Ellie’s punishment is worse.”

“So how do you know it’s Gillespie’s brother-in-law who did it?”

“He turned himself in this morning. He said that his job was done now, and he’s made a full confession,” Alec said.


	25. Twenty-Five

Twenty-Five

“Have you talked to Ellie?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around his stocking foot. It was cold. So was the other, when he switched.

“Her phone goes straight to voice mail,” Holly said. “I wouldn’t be in a mood to talk to anyone either, if I were her.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Alec said. “About where she and the boys are going to stay.”

“Oh?”

He took a deep breath. “Basically, there are two possibilities. I have a house in Broadchurch.” There, it was out now. He’d been thinking about telling her for quite some time, and arrived at the conclusion that keeping this from her for much longer was not an option. He wanted to return to Broadchurch, but he didn’t want to stay at the Trader’s again. Thomas’ Cottage was fraught with memories, happy and sad, but ultimately he wanted to live there, to make new ones with Holly. It was only fair that she learn about where she lived. But he was getting ahead of himself. He was assuming that she’d want to live there with him.

“You never said. Why did you stay at the Trader’s then?” she asked.

“I’ve let part of the house,” he said.

It didn’t take her long to catch on. “ _Part_ of the house?”

“Aye.”

There was a brief pause. “I’m renting part of a house. Your house, isn’t it?”

He squeaked in reply.

“And you never told me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to press you into anything,” he said.

“But if you want it back. You do want it back?” she asked.

“When I return to Broadchurch, yes. So, since you’re on the ground floor and—“

“Ellie can have the first floor,” Holly said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Have you been up there? It’s in no shape to be lived in. It’s in serious need of renovation, and that includes the ground floor. The idea that you live there is a bit embarrassing, to be quite honest,” he said.

“Are you chucking me out?” she whispered.

“What? No! No, I’m nae chucking ye out. Christ, what gave you that idea, Holly?” he asked, running his hand over his face.

He heard her take a deep breath. “Moving on. We need to discuss this. In person. You mentioned a second possibility?”

He was grateful for her sensibility. “I have friends in Broadchurch. From when I first stayed there.”

“You’ve never mentioned them before,” she said.

“I… I’ve never been good at keeping in touch, and it’s been a very long time. I’m sure we have all changed a lot,” he said. And yet, the Morleys had been the first people he’d thought of when he’d thought about how he could help Ellie. “Have ye heard of Morley Hall?”

“Yeah. It’s the sprawling place, off the Dorchester road. It has a stud and an Elizabethan garden,” she said.

“And a holiday home,” he added. “I’ve had a look at their website. They still rent part of the castle. The thing is, Holly, the place is furnished, and warm, and it’s better than staying at her sister’s or one of those bloody caravans down by the beach. What do you think?”

“I think you’d be very lucky if the flat were available,” she said carefully.

“I’d have to check, of course.”

“And calling those people is awkward.”

“After all this time? Aye. Particularly since I never bothered to go and see them during the summer,” he said.

“I’m sure they’d understand you’re a busy man,” she said. “I mean, I’m sure they have a lot on their plates too and they didn't keep in touch either.”

“Aye. So do you think I should call them?”

“Of course you should!” she cried. “If it’s just to make sure that the flat is actually available. You’ll hate yourself forever if you don’t ask. All they can say is no,” she said.

“I suppose so,” he said. It’d been an awfully long time, and he felt guilty for losing touch so soon after he returned to Brochwinnie. He didn’t want to tell Holly about it right now, however. That was a story for an evening spent cuddled up on the sofa together. 

“Tell me what they say, and I’ll be happy to go and talk to them in person. Look, love, I have to go now,” she said.

“Oh, I’ve been hogging your break, haven’t I?”

“Better you than some kid,” she said.

“You!”

“Go and ring Morley Hall. I’ll ring you back when I’m done here, yeah?”

He ended the call with a sigh. She had told him exactly what he needed to hear, and he loved her even more for that. He was pretty sure that both Fiona and Will would be glad to hear from him despite how long it had been since they’d seen each other. It was the last summer he and his parents had spent in Broadchurch before his mother’s death.

He looked at Morley Hall’s website again. The house looked just as he remembered it. There were only a few minor changes, most notably to the grounds, which looked more groomed now. There was a new stable and the old indoor arena had been upgraded too. He was most delighted to see how well-established Mr Jones’ Elizabethan garden was, including the arbor and lavender maze he’d envisioned all those years ago. Alec wondered if he still lived at Morley Cottage. He must be, what, in his early eighties now?

He checked the booking site for the holiday home and found that it was still available. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he wondered if that was a good sign. 

Taking a deep breath, he dialled the number on the contact page. His heart was racing, and he felt ridiculously like his fourteen-year-old self when he’d called Morley Hall for the first time.

He was startled when Sir Paul himself answered the phone.

“Umm, hello, Sir Paul. This is Alec Hardy,” he said. They’d seen each other a couple of times at tournaments, but they’d never exchanged more than the common pleasantries. Sir Paul sounded very much the same as he had that fateful summer.

“Alec. Good heavens, it’s been ages since we talked. Thought of you, though, when that horrible business with the Latimer boy happened. So glad you caught the bugger,” Sir Paul said. “You must come over so we can have a chat. How’s your father?”

“He’s great, thanks,” Alec said. “I’d love to come and see you, but I’m at Brochwinnie at the moment.”

“Ah. Well. Say hello to your old man for me then. I’ll get Fiona. It’s she you’d want to talk to, I’m sure?”

“Thank you,” Alec said. He exhaled softly after he’d heard Sir Paul put down the receiver to go and fetch Fiona. He pictured Sir Paul hurrying along the stone floors of the twisting hallways to get her from one of the other offices. But his heart wouldn’t slow down. A few minutes later he could hear the rapid approach of footsteps.

“Alec?”

She, too, sounded just like he remembered. A powerful flood of memories washed over him, and for a moment he felt breathless. “Fiona,” he managed to say.

“Gosh, it’s been ages! Why did you never call when you were down here? I’d have loved to meet up with you. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s a bit complicated, but I’m fine.”

“We’re so glad you managed to find Danny’s murderer. Such a terrible thing. And now his family home was burnt down.”

“I know. The news is all over the place,” he said. “Are you all right?” It only occurred to him then how terrified she must have been of the arsonist. He had, they now knew, been exacting revenge on those who should have seen the changes in Danny and Joe. He wondered briefly if she might have been among them.

Fiona let out a breath. “I am now, yeah.”

“Actually, Ellie is the reason why I’m calling,” he said, and went on to explain briefly to her what had happened. “I was wondering if you’re still letting the flat, and if you’d be willing and able to give it to Ellie and the boys until they’ve found a new place to stay. I understand their place is a complete loss.”

“Of course,” she said.

“What?”

“Of course they can stay here if they want,” Fiona said.

“Oh, that’s… that’s great.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am, quite frankly. It’s been such a long time and I come asking you for something and—“

“Alec. I still feel like I owe you. Despite everything, yeah?”

“Don’t, Fiona. It was nothing. Well, not nothing, you know what I mean. It was a great adventure at the time. Until it all went pear-shaped.”

“Yeah, but that’s… It was a tragic accident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

He chewed the inside of his cheek. “How’s Will?”

“He’s his charmingly annoying self,” she said, laughing. “He’s teaching at the moment.”

Alec guffawed.

“What’s so funny? I can’t think of a better place for my man-child than school,” she said.

“It’s just that my… my girlfriend is a teacher too. They might even be colleagues. She’s at South Wessex Secondary School,” he said. He realised only then that if Will was teaching there, the threat of having their home set on fire had been very real for Fiona too. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“What for? Marrying Will was my own fault,” she joked, but she became serious almost immediately. “The past weeks have been terrifying. Will never taught Danny, so apparently we were never on the arsonist’s list. We’ve only learned that now, of course.”

Alec ran his fingers through his slightly too short hair. “It’s all such a mess.” Strangely enough, talking to Fiona again didn’t feel in the slightest bit weird. He couldn’t believe she had actually married Will.

“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” Fiona asked. “I’ll tell Will when he gets home.”

“Holly Carlisle. She teaches English and Art,” he said.

“That name sounds familiar,” she replied. “Will might have mentioned her name once or twice. I’ll ask him when he comes home from school.”

“So you’re a Tiler now.”

Fiona guffawed. “Goodness no. I’m still a Morley. Will took on my name when we married. It’s only been six years. I feel a bit awkward about knowing so much about you. I read the piece in the _Echo_. About you and your daughter.”

“Aye, well,” he said, sniffing.

“Look, Alec, I have to go, but please do call again, yeah? I’d love to catch up with you, because the truth is I’ve missed you,” she said.

“Oh, that…”

“Is awkward?”

“No, no, it’d be lovely. I’m just… I’m in Brochwinnie and won’t be back until after Martin has given me a clean bill of health. Again.”

Fiona laughed. She still sounded like the girl he’d first met, but there was also a new quality to her laugh. A more mature, sadder note. Of course there would be, after all that had happened.

“Holly might pop by, if that’s all right. To make arrangements for Ellie and the boys. If she accepts your offer,” Alec hastened to say.

“Well, there’s always the phone. And email.”

“I’ve been so rubbish at staying in touch. I’m not sure that has changed much.”

“Well, we’ll both make an effort then, yeah? Just give me your number, so I’ll be able to bother you.”

He did, and when he ended the call, he felt a lot better. It was good to know that he had friends down there apart from Ellie and Holly, and they were willing to help Ellie and the boys out. Having sent a quick text to Holly with Fiona’s number, he realised it was time to go to the hospital to bring Teresa home.

-:-

Teresa practically flew into Moray’s arms when she spotted him in the stables. Alec had no idea that Moray had already been released from hospital, and he felt ashamed about it. He was his best friend. He should know things like this. 

Teresa had insisted on coming here to say hello to Ruby before retreating to the warmth of the house. “Ruby needs to know that it wasn’t her fault, aye?” she’d told him in the car.

Despite his concern and his need to have her beside him, he’d smiled. “Of course, darlin’.” She was every bit his daughter.

Moray caught her as well as he could with only his good arm. His other arm was in a cast and a sling. He groaned a little when Teresa crashed into him, but he returned her hug as fiercely as he received it. A pang of guilt coursed through Alec at the picture. Teresa and Moray had always been close, but after he and Em split up, and his disappearance from her life, she had sought and found a fatherly figure in Moray, who didn’t have any children of his own.

Alec gave them some space and went to Ruby, who greeted him with a whinny and a nudge of her incredibly soft muzzle. He ran his right hand up her face and pressed a quick kiss against the spot where her coat made way for the dark skin. “Hello, beautiful,” he murmured, feeding her a treat he’d picked up at the entrance to the stables. “How are you doing today, hmm?”

He slid open the door and stepped into her box when she moved aside for him in invitation. He examined her cuts briefly, stroking her and sighing in relief when he found that they were healing nicely. Ruby lowered her head and nickered softly at his touch. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were a cat in an earlier life,” he chuckled. He’d have to be careful for the next couple of days when grooming her.

“Dad?”

Teresa’s tentative voice made him turn around. “Hey,” he said, smiling.

“Can I come in?”

Ruby answered for him by moving towards the door to greet Teresa like she had greeted him before: with a horsey kiss.

“I think so,” he said, smiling.

“I’m so sorry that that horrible man scared you so,” Teresa said, rubbing Ruby’s cheek. “But it’s all right now, aye? It’s all going to be fine.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Moray asked. He was cradling his bad arm.

Alec joined him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Alec,” Moray said. “No one could have anticipated anything like this. Not even you. So don’t you fret about it.”

Alec sighed. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“You’ll have to. Teresa needs you now more than ever. Be there for her.”

Alec chewed the inside of his cheek, looking away. In other words, Moray was asking him to stay. He definitely couldn’t do that. He needed to be in Broadchurch, to help Ellie and to be with Holly. He knew Teresa needed him too, and he wanted to be there for her. So much. “I cannae tear myself in half,” he said.

Moray guffawed. “You’ve done it before.”

“I cannae take Teresa to Broadchurch with me. What she needs is stability, routine, to know that there are some things in life that haven’t changed.”

“Which excludes your presence,” Moray said.

Alec exhaled. “What do you want me to do, eh? This isnae home any more, and you know it.”

“Then why did you come?” Moray asked pointedly.

Alec opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come. 

“It’s not like we don’t miss you when you’re down there. You leaving has left a great big gap here,” Moray continued.

He stared at him. He’d always been under the impression that they’d been glad to be shot of him.

“We want you back here, Alec. We all miss you, but we understand that your life has changed. Just… just don’t forget we’re here. Christ, I can’t believe you’ve been through all this by yourself,” Moray said, massaging his fingers. Alec thought dumbly that he’d have to wear mittens when it got really cold. Moray hated mittens.

“Why did you never return my calls? I was so worried about you.”

“I couldn’t,” Alec said eventually. “I just couldn’t. You’d want me to make up with Em and I just couldn’t go back. We’re over, Moray. I’m in love with Holly, and I want to get things right with her. I nearly messed things up with her too, but I’m not going to let that happen.”

“I wouldn’t—“ Moray began, but thankfully he saw that reassuring him wasn’t going to work. “Can’t Holly move up here?”

“She has a job down there, and friends who look after her,” Alec said. “I’m not going to ask her to give it up just because of… me.”

“You know what your problem is? You’re too soft inside your tough little shell. Too considerate. Why do you always put your happiness second?”

Alec stared at him. “Because people depend on me, Moray. They want me to do things, and because I like them I cannot refuse them. And I’ve worked hard, and still I failed people. That’s why. And now I’m doing something that’s right for me, and I say no. Look at us.”

Moray stared at him. Alec, in turn, couldn’t believe that his oldest friend needed to be told this. All of his life, Alec had tried to be the good lad and to meet people’s expectations. It had literally broken his heart, and he couldn’t do it any more. He was so tired of it, but even his grumpiness hadn’t worked. There were Ellie and Holly, and now Fiona and Will from the olden days.

“I… I…,” Moray stammered. 

Alec turned around to check if Teresa had overheard their conversation, but they had moved away from Ruby’s box, and she was busy fussing over the horse.

“It’s nae yer fault,” Alec said, drawing himself up to his full height. “I’m trying to get things right, to make them work, but please, Moray, let me find a solution. For once, I need to look after myself.”

Moray looked at him intently before he nodded.

“I’m going inside to make a cuppa. Are ye coming?”

“Just… just a minute. I’ll tell Teresa.”

Alec nodded and left.

“Alec!”

He stopped.

“You haven’t failed any of us. We failed you,” Moray said. “I was a rubbish friend.”

Alec turned around. “No. You weren’t. You acted based on what you knew. I didn’t tell you everything because I was ashamed of myself, or because I didn’t want to see them.”

“Ashamed?” Moray gasped.

Alec shrugged. It was the truth, and he was sure that, given some time, Moray would understand.

As he stepped outside into the cold afternoon, an afternoon that had never fully shaken the morning mist, he took a deep breath. After the warmth of the car and the stables, the air was icy in his lungs, but with it came clarity. For the first time in a very long time he knew what he wanted, and that he wanted it for himself and that it was good. It was the right thing to do. Even if some people wouldn’t understand; least of all his father.


	26. Twenty-Six

Twenty-Six

Ellie gripped Brian’s hand tightly as soon as she’d rounded the car and was by his side. If she hurt him, he didn’t let on, but she loosened her fingers somewhat. Behind the artfully cut hedge she could see the ruins of her home. While it had felt somehow empty, even wrong ever since Joe’s arrest, it was a proper ruin now. The first floor was completely burned out, and the charred skeleton of the roof offered a good view to anyone who cared to look — and there were many — what used to hide inside.

The fire service were there to secure the building and to decide whether it was salvageable. Part of her hoped it wasn’t, but another part of her wanted her home back.

Brian draped his arm around her and pulled her into his side. “You’re shaking,” he said gently.

She hadn’t noticed.

A fireman approached her. “Is there anything you’d like us to get out for you?”

“Are you going to declare it structurally unsound?” Brian asked before she could say anything.

What did she want? What could she possibly want from a life that was tarnished now, and that had been, to a degree, a lie?

“Looks like it,” the fireman said.

Ellie took a deep breath. “I think I’d just like the photos, if there are any left at all.”

The fireman tapped his helmet in acknowledgement and disappeared back inside.

“I’ll keep the ones of the kids,” Ellie said. “Unless they’re waterlogged. Hell, even if they are waterlogged. It’s all I have, right?”

“You should keep some of Joe as well,” Brian said, much to her surprise and horror. “Even if you don’t put them up now, you might regret it one day. And it might be good for the boys, particularly Fred.”

She sighed. “I’m not sure I want him to know who his father is.”

“I know, love. But he’s going to ask questions, and it’ll be so much worse when he’s old enough to find out. If you keep this secret from him, he will find it hard to trust you again,” he reasoned.

“Just… I can’t deal with them right now,” she said. Her eyes widened when she remembered all the family’s paperwork in the small desk in the family room. “We need to get it.”

“Get what, love?” Brian asked.

Realizing that she hadn’t voiced the thought, she explained to him what she meant. They told the fireman about the binders when he came with a stack of frames. Ellie was absurdly grateful for Joe’s almost obsessive need to file away everything neatly, so that they’d find things quickly when they needed them.

Brian had brought a banana box from the supermarket, and they carefully deposited the frames and the paperwork into it when the fireman came out with all of it.

“Is there anything else before we secure the building, Sergeant?” he asked. They’d met before, at the fires Taylor had set. The entire fire service felt embarrassed and were falling all over themselves to help her. They’d already organised some clothes, toddler supplies and toys for the boys. In a minute, she and Brian would leave to look at one of the flats they wanted to make available to her until she’d decided where to live. Staying at her sister’s certainly was only a temporary option. Sooner or later they’d drive each other up the walls. Now that their relationship seemed to be getting better, they didn’t want to jeopardize things.

“No, thank you, Bill,” she managed to say.

The smell of fire hung thickly in the cold air.

“Ellie?”

She hadn’t seen Beth and Mark approach them. Ellie reached for Brian’s hand, which he was happy to provide.

“Beth. Mark,” she said, not knowing how else to greet them.

“We’re so sorry for what happened,” Mark offered, shuffling his feet as he did when he was unsure of what to say. It was a peace offering she was happy to accept.

“You don’t deserve this, and the kids…,” Beth said. “How are they?”

“Fred’s all right, I think. I’m not so sure about Tom, though,” she said truthfully. “He doesn’t talk much these days.”

“Oh,” Beth said. “Well, what about you? Do you have a place to stay? If there’s anything you need, just give us a shout, yeah?”

Ellie chose not to answer her first question. Beth didn’t really want to hear her reply, not out of malice, but out of insecurity. After all that had happened, it was an odd time to come and chat, but it certainly was a beginning. “I will, thanks.”

Her mobile rang. “Excuse me,” she said, glad for the escape.

“Ellie, it’s me. Holly.”

“Oh, hello.” _Please don’t ask me how I am because I have no idea._

“Alec sends his love. He reckons you have enough to deal with for the moment, you don’t need him calling too,” Holly said.

She didn’t know what to make of that. Eventually she settled for, “Is he all right?”

“Oh, yeah, he is. Look, Ellie, I know you’re busy so I’ll make this short,” Holly continued.

“Thanks,” Ellie said, sighing. “Brian and I are just about to look at a place for me and the kids.”

“Good timing. Alec has talked to some friends of his, here in Broadchurch, and they’re happy to help with accommodation,” Holly said.

“Is he here?” She should have asked about the friends instead. He’d never mentioned any friends down here.

“No, he’s still in Scotland. The Morleys have a holiday flat which is empty now, and which they’d be happy to give to you and the boys until you’ve found somewhere more permanent to stay,” Holly explained.

“The Morleys of Morley Hall?” Ellie asked, turning around to look at Brian. He was chatting to Mark and one of the firemen, while Beth stood alone looking bit forlorn, her arms wrapped around herself for extra warmth. The swell of her stomach was clearly visible. It occurred to Ellie that she shouldn’t be out in the cold without a coat.

“Will Morley is a teacher at South Wessex. They were concerned about the arsonist too, and they feel it’s the lest they can do. We could meet at the house later on. They said to come whenever you want,” Holly said.

“And our grumpy Alec, “shit face,” is friends with them?” Ellie asked in disbelief. It was beyond her how Alec could have friends in the lower gentry. The baronet was a quiet man, he’d retired a few years earlier leaving the running of the estate to his children. She and Joe had been to Morley Hall once, to explore the estate on an open day with Tom; that had been in the happy days, shortly before she’d become pregnant with Fred.

“He isn’t so much shit-face any more,” Holly said, laughing. “But yes, that seems to be the case. He tells me it’s a long story.”

Ellie cupped her forehead. “How is Teresa?” She felt horrible for not asking after her.

“She seems to be all right, but we’ll see how she really is in the next couple of months, when she’s had time to collect herself,” Holly said.

“Give them my love when you talk to him, yes? And thanks for the offer. We’re going there to have a look after this other offer we have,” Ellie said. “And Holly? Don’t feel shy about calling me. And tell Alec the same thing.”

“I will. Look, I’ve got to go. Lesson’s about to start,” Holly said and ended the call.

“Was…” Beth began, approaching her, “was Hardy _punished_ too?”

“His daughter was kidnapped and his best friend was injured,” Ellie said. “So, yes.”

Beth clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“How are you?” Ellie asked, looking pointedly at her bump. They’d wanted to have their second and third baby together, but it had turned out she and Joe were more successful than Beth and Mark. In hindsight it turned out that their timing couldn’t have been better. While the new baby wouldn’t replace Danny, it was a new beginning. Ellie wasn’t sure what to make of the timing of Fred’s arrival. She was glad to have him, she was just sorry that he was going to grow up without his father. Brian was wonderful with the boys, but it was early days, much too early to be thinking anything longterm. Brian had been flirting with her a lot, and he adored her and the boys, but she had no idea how serious he was. Particularly now that life had turned out to be such a horrible mess.

He’d offered her shelter too, and while he’d have had enough space for them, she’d declined. It was too soon, and he’d understood.

“Shall we, Ellie?” he said, joining them. “They’re waiting for us.”

She nodded.

Beth reached for her hand. “I meant what I said a couple of weeks back. And earlier. I’d love to talk to you, in peace and quiet. And if there’s anything—“

Touched, Ellie hugged her. She didn’t know what to say, so for once her body language had to do. “Thank you, Beth.”

-:-

The flat one of the firemen had dug up didn’t have any furniture. It was lovely, newly renovated and in a prime location. The old hospital at the southern end of the St Andrews Road had been converted into several flats of varying size. The school wasn’t far, and neither was the town centre. But the lack of furniture disqualified it. Brian tried to convince her that they’d be able to procure the most essential pieces, like beds and a sofa and a table and chairs. But the prospect of having to ask for everything, plus all the other necessary household items was just too daunting.

Alec’s holiday flat sounded much more promising. These places usually provided all the essentials at least, and despite the longer journey to school for Tom she suspected it would be the better option.

Brian drove her to Morley Hall. Now that it was December, the formerly grand building was visible through the bare trees as they approached it on the drive. It looked more like an oversized farm house with its fruit trees, thatched roof and the ivy climbing up the walls. The stables and riding arena were to the right of the house, and Brian parked his car in front of it, right next to a small Italian import.

“It certainly looks grand,” he said. “Lovely place for a holiday. Romantic.” He took her hand and smiled at her.

“Brian,” she began.

He touched her lips lightly with his fingers. “I’m serious. About anything I do for you. I just want you to know that, yeah? I’ll be there for as much or as little as you want me.”

She looked at him searchingly. Clearly, he must want something in return. He’d been so lighthearted and easily dismissive of her marriage when he’d first flirted with her. All he’d seemed to want back then was a fling with her. “I— I don’t understand,” she finally said.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, as if he could read hers. “I don’t just want an affair. I want more. If that’s all right. But I’m willing to wait.”

“It’s… it’s a bit fast.”

He smiled. “I know.”

She’d said it before.

“I just want you to know that you can depend on me. If that’s what you want. You obviously need time. I’m willing to wait.”

She smiled at him, touched, and for the second time that day she didn’t know what to say. She opted for a simple kiss.

-:-

Fiona Morley met them in the pleasantly warm living room they called the King’s Hall. There was a balcony in the northern half where the family’s proper living room was, and that was accessible via a narrow spiral staircase. That was where the telly was, and the comfy sofas and armchair, and the children’s toys. It was also where Fiona Morley took them and served them tea and cake.

“It was such a wonderful surprise when Alec called yesterday,” Fiona began, pouring them tea. “We hadn’t talked in ages.”

“I was surprised he had friends down here at all. We worked together for months and he never breathed a word,” Ellie said, relaxing into the softness of the sofa.

“He’s still the quiet one then,” Fiona replied.

“How long has it been since you last saw him?” Brian asked, helping himself to a cupcake. Of course, he was just as curious about Alec’s past as she was. They were curious about the man he had been before his life had changed so dramatically.

“Oh, that was the summer of 1985, so it’s what, twenty-eight years?” she said. “Gosh, we’re getting old.”

Ellie looked at her. Although there were some laugh lines around her eyes, Fiona Morley didn’t look old enough to have been friends with Alec back then. “He spent his summer holidays here, with his parents,” Ellie said. “He said he’d been right miserable.”

“Yes, I suppose he was,” she said.

Ellie frowned. “What happened? He said something about escaping his parents, arguing and bickering.”

Fiona shifted in her seat. “That was once his father joined them. His mother and him. After… our little adventure. He’d been okay until then. We’d been okay.”

“What happened? Were you…?” She didn’t know how to ask her without overstepping the line, and to her amazement she found herself slipping into her role as a detective. It protected her and put distance between herself and the information she got. She wasn’t sure she liked that. She definitely wasn’t here as a police officer.

Fiona Morley smiled. “There could have been something between us, but there wasn’t, at least not beyond a kiss.”

“Oh!” Brian said.

Ellie felt her face go slack. She hadn’t expected to hear that.

“Alec had come down here to recover from pneumonia, and we met and became friends. My little brother made a stupid mistake back then, and he helped us out,” she continued. “I owe him a lot.”

“So he didn’t get in touch when he first arrived here?”

“No, but I suppose he was too busy finding poor Danny’s murderer, and we were away too for a while,” Fiona replied. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, the complete opposite of Holly and Emma. Not that Holly and Emma weren’t beautiful; they just were entirely different types. Fiona Morley had green eyes and thick chestnut hair. She had a great figure and wore jeans and a plain white blouse and a cardie, despite the warmth in the room.

“I’m sorry, I’m asking too many questions,” Ellie said.

“Occupational hazard, I suppose,” Fiona smiled.

She shrugged sheepishly. “It just doesn’t feel right. It’s so kind of you to offer us your holiday flat. Me and the boys. Brian might come and visit,” she said, realising that she was being too vague.

Fiona smiled. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Ellie. I can call you that, can’t I?”

Ellie nodded, recalling the awkward conversation she’d had with Alec about the same topic.

“”Well, the flat is fully equipped with everything you might need, and we’ve already aired it out for you,” Fiona said. “I haven’t turned the heating up yet, in case you don’t want it. But it warms up fast when you light the fires.” Her eyes widened at the last remark. “Sorry, but there’s no other way to put it.”

Ellie pursed her lips. “There isn’t. We weren’t hurt because we were at my sister’s at the time..”

“That’s something at least then,” Fiona said. “Shall we go and have a look? If it suits your needs?”

The flat was located in the southern part of what was left of the 14thth century castle. Fiona told them that the castle had been bigger then and that all that remained was the west wing of a building complex erected around a large courtyard. Thomas Hardy had immortalised the house in a gothic poem and described it as “the farmstead once a castle”. 

The flat was really a house, consisting of a large kitchen, a lounge and a family room on the ground floor, and two generous en-suite bedrooms on the first floor. All the rooms were tastefully furnished and looked like they wanted to be lived-in. “We have a travel cot for your baby, and a high chair,” Fiona said. 

Ellie didn’t know what to say. There was a cupboard in the kitchen that held a washing machine, an iron and a hoover. The rest of the kitchen was fully equipped, and the TV in the family room was brand new. “The old one died last summer,” Fiona explained. 

“Why’s it empty now?” Brian asked. “I mean, I’d expect a place like this to be booked all year round, particularly at Christmas time. It’s perfect. You don’t mind us putting up a tree, do you?”

Ellie stared at him. An hour ago, she’d seen herself spending Christmas on a mattress in an empty flat, and now Brian was painting pictures of a romantic holiday in this gorgeous place.

“Well, we had the arson scare, so we didn’t feel it’d be safe to have people staying here,” Fiona said.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, I’m glad we didn’t have anyone. Frankly, it’s been feeling like too much work lately; besides we wouldn’t be able to help you out, would we?”

“Did your husband teach Danny?” Brian asked.

“Yes. It was such a terrible shock when we heard what had happened. Danny was one of Will’s best pupils,” Fiona said.


	27. Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Seven

Teresa started to suffer from nightmares on the night she returned from hospital. Alec woke confused, his sleep-shrouded mind trying to determine the source of the moans and cries. As soon as he realised that the distressed sounds came from the other bedroom, he rushed to Teresa to comfort her. She was already awake when he stepped into her room.

“Dad?”

“I’m here, darlin’,” he said, sitting on the edge of her bed. He was unsure of what to do. Teresa was growing up, and he didn’t want to intrude or make her feel awkward. His first instinct was to protect, but he wasn’t sure how far he should go. For a few beats he debated getting Em.

Teresa resolved the dilemma for him when she sat up and wrapped her arms around him. He embraced her then and held her. “It was a dream. You’re safe now,” he said, rubbing her back in soothing circles. She felt so small in his arms, completely different from the impression of a strong young woman she’d given him earlier.

“I know,” she sobbed. “I know that now.”

He kissed the side of her head. Of course she did. The dream must have seemed so real, and he hated himself. This was happening because of him. If he’d been able to find more conclusive evidence, or if he’d taken the pendant in to the station, rather than letting Em do the honours, this wouldn’t have happened. And Ellie would still have her house, and Fiona and Holly wouldn’t have had to live in fear of having their homes burnt down.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he said in a choked voice. This wasn’t the time for self-pity, or self-hatred. He had to be there for her. No more running away.

“I was so scared of you leaving again, Dad,” she cried.

“What?”

“You’re not leaving again? Not now?”

She wanted him here. He swallowed hard, trying to figure out what she meant. “No, not now,” he said.

He rocked back and forth slowly until her shivering stopped and she ran out of tears. There was a box of tissues on her bedside table, and he plucked a few from it. Her tears had left a damp patch on his shoulder; the material there stuck to his skin and quickly cooled as she withdrew.

When she sat back he cupped her cheek, holding the tissues out with his other hand. Her eyes were swollen and red. “Would you like a glass of water?” he asked.

“That would be great.”

He stood to leave.

“Dad?”

“Aye?”

“You’re really going to stay?”

He sighed.

“I mean now? For Christmas?”

 _Buggering fucking hell._ “Of course I am, darlin’,” he said softly. “I’m staying until Martin gives me a clean bill of health.”

“What are you going to do afterwards?”

He sighed again. “Let’s not discuss this now, eh? I’ll get you that glass of water.”

When he returned a few moments later, Teresa asked him to sit on the empty half of her bed. She even lifted the covers for him so he’d be warm. She was worrying about him even now. He should be taking care of her.

Once he was comfortable, she snuggled up to him, and he put his arm around her. 

“He made me his daughter’s favourite food,” she said after a while. “Spaghetti bolognese. And milk.”

“You hate milk.”

She chuckled. “I told him that.”

“That was… very brave.”

“I thought you’d be mad at me. For provoking him.”

He sighed and rested his cheek on top of her head. “Nah, darlin’. You saw through him, didn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

He lifted the weight of her thoughts off her. “You don’t feel any sympathy for him, do you?”

“For kidnapping me? No. But I’m sorry he lost his child,” she said. “I’m sorry he made you feel what it must be like.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s nae yer fault.”

They were quiet for a few moments. “I was scared he’d do to me what the murderer did to his daughter,” she said. “That was… what my dream was about. That he’d kill me bit by bit, by taking away my… dignity.”

Alec tensed. “Did he… did he touch you?”

“No.”

“Teresa…”

“They examined me at the hospital. They didn’t believe me,” she snapped.

Alec tilted his head back against the headboard. After all Teresa had gone through, her carers hadn’t believed her when she’d told them that she was all right, at least physically. Instead they’d made her go through an uncomfortable and unnecessary exam. It was protocol, but sod protocol when his daughter was involved. “I’m sorry.”

“It was… okay. I’ve had the examination before. For my vaccination,” she said. “Still.”

“They had to make sure you weren’t protecting him,” he said, incredulous that he’d actually say the words.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, he treated you well, didn’t he? And it seems he never had any intention of physically harming you. He just wanted to get at me,” he said.

“He should have punished Mum,” she said bitterly.

“What? Teresa—“ This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid. No matter how much at fault Em was, she didn’t deserve her daughter’s hatred. No one could have foreseen the theft. He’d been the officer in charge and it had been his job to take care of the evidence. Instead he’d gone home to get some much-needed sleep.

“Why did she leave you?”

“We made a better team as coppers than we did as a couple,” he said. “She was the one to realise it first.”

“So you never… you never cheated on her?”

This conversation was taking quite the unexpected turn, and he wasn’t sure this was something he really wanted to talk about with his daughter, especially right now. He supposed, however, that she needed the answers, and if he gave them to her, she’d at least get some peace of mind in that regard. “Never,” he replied. 

“What about Holly?”

“I met her down in Broadchurch,” he said.

“After.”

He nodded.

“Mum said she came to be with you while I was… away.”

“She did, yeah,” he said. “She skived off school to be with me.”

“Cheeky,” Teresa said. She was beginning to sound sleepy.

He laughed. “Aye.”

“Dad?”

He hummed.

“I love you.”

His heart broke. He tightened his grip around her shoulder. “I love you too, darlin’.”

“Quite right too,” she sighed, and before he knew it, she relaxed and fell asleep. Alec carefully disentangled himself from her and draped the covers over her before he left.

-:-

“I’d like to renovate Thomas’ Cottage,” Alec told his father at breakfast the next morning. It was just the two of them. Mrs Coulter was doing the shopping, Teresa was sound asleep (he’d checked. Twice.), and Em and Flo had left early for the morning shift. There was only so much compassionate leave you could take in the understaffed office.

“You’re going to live there,” Dad said, pouring himself more coffee.

Alec took a deep breath. “Aye. I’ve got friends there. And Holly.”

“The Morleys,” he said. “And your colleague.”

Alec peeled an orange. “Aye.”

“You haven’t seen the Morleys in ages, haven’t you? And your colleague might want to leave after all that’s happened. And Holly might find a job elsewhere,” Dad said. “You were miserable there as a lad.”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” Alec growled, but deep down he had to admit that he was right.

“What about Teresa? What if the vote goes through in September, eh? You’d be living _abroad_ ,” he said, pronouncing the last word with so much disgust it was almost comical.

“Is that really what bothers you?”

“Your daughter’s welfare? Of course it is. If you can’t be arsed to be there for her. Do you have any idea how much she’s missed you?”

Alec dropped his orange onto his plate in exasperation. “Let’s not use Teresa, too, shall we?”

His father took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to go. This is your home.”

Alec stared at him. “It hasn’t felt like home in a long time.”

Instead of the burst of rage Alec had expected, his father just looked sad. There was something else in his eyes, some kind of recognition Alec failed to see at first. “You are so much like your mother,” Dad said.

“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Alec said. He felt his throat closing up. They never discussed Mum.

“It’s just an observation. You’re more like her than you are like me. Which is a good thing,” he hastened to add.

Alec scoffed. “And why would that be?”

“Because you can see into people’s hearts. It’s something I was never able to do. I failed your mother. And you.”

“And still you tell me Brochwinnie is my home?” Alec asked in disbelief. “It hasn’t really been since Mum died. And even before, it was only half a home. With you gone most of time and me trying so hard to prove myself to you when you were around. And I disappointed you every single time,” he said. The words came without bitterness. The sadness in them weighed them down too much, they almost stuck in his throat.

“You didn’t.”

“What?”

“You never disappointed me.”

“Don’t do that,” Alec said, grabbing his orange. It was only half peeled, but he’d damaged the tender skin with his nail and the juice found its way through the gaps between his fingers. He wanted to squeeze it.

“Do what? Tell you the truth?”

“Why now?”

“Your mother played the cello so well she could have had a great career. She gave it up after the accident. Just like that. She never touched it again. And she missed it, every minute of every day she missed playing, and I saw it but I never did anything about it. Not playing changed her, and she became someone I barely knew. She’d not let me see that new part, however much I tried,” his father said.

“Are you blaming her?”

“No, I’m blaming myself,” he said sadly. “I didn’t try hard enough to encourage her to take up the cello again.”

Alec leaned back in his chair. He began to understand. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I’m afraid of you leaving for the wrong reasons,” he said.

“Is Holly the wrong reason? My work?”

“You tell me,” his father said. 

Alec was about to reply when the door opened and Teresa came in. She was in her pyjamas, cream-colored flannel with cheery red robins printed on it.

“Good morning, dearie,” his father said, beaming. Sometimes it was almost scary how much he loved his granddaughter. 

“Did you sleep well?” Alec asked.

“Much better after the nightmare,” she said.

“Nightmare?” his father asked in alarm.

“About the kidnapper,” she said, slipping onto the chair between them. Alec poured her some tea, and she reached for the toast.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Dad was there.”

His father gave him a pointed look.

“I’ll get you some porridge. Mrs Coulter left it on the range for you, to keep it warm,” Alec said, pushed back his chair and left. In the kitchen, he leaned against the counter and tipped his head back.

“Are you all right, Alec?”

Mrs Coulter’s voice startled him and he took a step away from the counter as if she’d caught him up to the elbows in the cookie jar. “I am, aye,” he said.

Mrs Coulter sighed. “Is Teresa awake?”

“Yeah, it’s why I’m here. I was getting some porridge for her,” he replied.

“And you took a moment.”

He nodded.

“If you stay here instead of leaving, you’ll break sooner or later,” she said. She’d brought in a whiff of cold air.

“Can I help you with the shopping?” Alec asked.

She laughed. “Aye, I could use a hand.”

Together, they fetched the bags from the car, and as she began to put the groceries away, he ladled some of the porridge into Teresa’s favourite bowl and added a generous helping of syrup.

“I need to talk to you,” she said as he made to leave.

“About you and Dad.” She knew he’d seen them kissing the other night.

“Aye.”

Alec delivered Teresa’s breakfast and returned with the empty teapot.

“You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

“Why would I? He’s been alone for long enough. Or how long have you two been together?” Alec asked, filling the kettle.

“It was the fifth anniversary of your mother’s death,” she said. “We missed her so much and eventually, after a few drinks, we ended up in… well. Bed.”

Alec stared. He’d never have thought that of either his father or Mrs Coulter. They seemed so professional around each other, and he’d never noticed anything. “You’re very good at hiding it.”

“He didn’t want to upset you.”

He guffawed. “Right.”

“Please don’t tell him you know. I will.”

He shrugged, continuing to make tea. “I wouldn’t know how to talk to him about it,” he said. Sadly, it was true. 

“He loves you, Alec. And he’s worried about you,” she said, filling the fruit bowl with bananas, apples and oranges. He remembered the half-peeled orange on his plate and sniffed his palm. His skin carried the acrid yet sweet smell of the fruit.

“How is Teresa?”

“She had a nightmare,” he said. _And it’s my fault._

Mrs Coulter exhaled. “Is she getting professional help?”

“Aye. Em knows someone who’s supposed to be very good at working with teenagers,” he said. The kettle clicked off and he poured the water into the pot, over the teabags he’d already dropped into it.

He carried the pot out into the dining room and sat at the table. Teresa and Dad were talking about the plans for Christmas. It was only a few days away, but so far he hadn’t spared it a thought beyond what to get Teresa and that Holly wasn’t going to be there. There was nothing he could do about the latter, but it was high time he got something for Teresa. What did you get a traumatised girl if you couldn’t give her back her peace of mind? It all seemed so trivial.

“Dad?” she asked. “You’re miles away.”

“Sorry. You were saying?” he asked, pouring himself some tea.

“What would you like for dinner on Christmas Eve?”

-:-

Later, as he helped Mrs Coulter to clear away the breakfast things, his phone rang. While he’d usually left it in his flat until Teresa’s kidnapping, he now made it a habit to carry it around with him. Retrieving it from his pocket, he saw that it was Em calling. Frowning, he accepted the call.

“We’ve got the pendant,” she said without preamble.

He sat heavily on the chair. “What?”

“The pendant. The owner of a pawn shop recognised it and brought it in this morning. Forensics have it. There is no doubt it is our pendant,” she said. “We’ve got him, Alec. We’ve got the killer. This time he won’t get away.”

Alec felt the powerful need to sit for a second time. After all these months they were finally going to be able to bring a little justice to the world, even though it was a little late for Teresa, and for Ellie.

“Alec, love? Say something. Are you still there?” Em asked.

“Aye,” he croaked. “I’m still here.”

“We thought you might like to come in. I’ll send a car if you want,” she said.

“I’m not sure,” he began. “I’m not… they don’t want me there.”

“Sod them. We want you there. The team. You found him, you deserve to open the forensics report that confirms you were right,” she said. “Besides, you need the closure.”

“That’s kind of you, Em, but…”

“I’ll send the car, ye eejit,” she said and hung up.

What should have been an insult, and once was a term of endearment, was now a powerful reminder of what they still had. A strong work relationship, and the backing of the team.

He sat in a daze for such a long time that Mrs Coulter sent Teresa as a search party. She found him staring at the remnants of their breakfast.

“Dad? Dad, are ye all right?” she asked, kneeling on the floor beside him, her hands on his arm and thigh.

He looked at her, and the beat of his eyelids released the tears he’d felt coming on. He was so overwhelmed by what Em had said, and the emotions she’d set free in him that he had no other way of of responding. It was that or a tightening in his chest, and searing pain, but instead there were tears and an unbelievable feeling of relief.

“I think I might be. In a minute. Hug me?”

He pulled her onto his lap as she rose, and held her close.

“What is it, Dad? You’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed. “I just had a call from your mother. Someone returned the pendant that was stolen when the car was broken in.”

She shifted, her whole weight moving to his knees. “Why now?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t care, darlin’. We can arrest the killer.”

“So… if the pendant had turned up a few days earlier—“

 _I hope to God that’s not the case._ “We’ll never find out. Your mother has sent a car to get me. I’m sure we’ll have all the answers by tonight.” _But they won’t make your nightmares go away._

“Are you sure it’s the pendant? And that it’s not been cleaned?”

He heaved a sigh. _That’s what I’m afraid of._ “She’s positive. Forensics are already on it, and your mother wants me to open their report.”

“Don’t call her that. _Your mother._ Call her Em or Emma, but please don’t be so cold,” Teresa said.

He stared at her, then he laughed. “All right, darlin’. Would you like to come with me? Your appointment with the counsellor is in an hour and I’m sure we can find a way to keep ourselves busy until then.”

“And until the results come in,” she said.

“And that. And afterwards I’m going to treat us to the best millionaire shortbread in the world,” he promised. She could never resist that.

“Is it true what Mum said? That it’s only a first meeting with the counsellor that if we don’t click I’ll get to talk to someone else?”

“Absolutely. You have to feel safe, and you have to like them enough to open up. So they can help you.”

“Have you ever had counselling?”

“Not enough, darlin’,” he said, deciding that honesty was the best policy in this situation.


	28. Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Eight

It was over by Christmas. She had no chance to talk to Alec properly, as he’d taken some time off from his time off to bring the Sandbrook case to a close. His old team had insisted that, as SIO, he be the one to put the final details in place to end things, rather than his successor. Holly was pretty sure that Em and Flo were largely responsible for that, though she had no proof. It didn't really matter; what was important was that Alec could get closure. 

The case was all over the papers and the news on the telly again. The Beeb even had a short feature on it, recounting the events up to the catastrophic loss of the piece of evidence. Luckily, whatever had happened to the necklace in the intervening two years had not destroyed or removed the DNA traces that unequivocally identified the murderer. 

When Holly saw Alec on the screen she thought how exhilarated he must be feeling, and she was happy for him that he could bring that chapter of his career behind him. It was a long, horrible chapter in which he’d lost not only his dignity and health, but also his family. It was miraculous that the case should come to a close now. She was just sorry that it had also taken his daughter’s innocence and robbed his new partner of her home.

There also was a certain sadness to him when she paused the iPlayer mid-stream, and looked closely. It occurred to her that she had no photo of him, so she indulged a little in staring at him on the screen. She had watched this particular newscast several times, because when no one was supposed to be looking, someone off screen made a joke that lit up Alec’s face. It was that precise moment that enchanted her so, and she decided that this time, she would take a screen capture, enhance and print it so she could turn it into a work of art.

She looked at the scarf she had knitted for him, and pulled it off the back of the armchair to drape it around her neck. The idea was to give it to him with her smell on it; he loved her smell, but giving him something with just a spritz of her perfume on it wouldn’t be enough. He needed the combination of her perfume and her own scent, and there was no better way to transferring it to the scarf than by wearing it. 

She decided that a trip to Quills and Quartos was in order. The scarf alone seemed inadequate, too utilitarian. They’d talked about books a fair bit, but the only other thing she knew about him was that he was good with horses. Hell, he hadn’t even told her much about the horses. Now that she knew about Fiona and Morley Hall she wondered why he had never gone there to visit her, or to go for a ride.

The day she’d spent at Brochwinnie had been too short to offer her insight into his life. Granted, she’d met Em and his father, but they’d been so curious about her that she’d in her attempt to hide from them as much as possible she hadn’t really had a chance to ask about him.

It was silly because if she and Alec were to have something solid she’d have to meet and get to know them eventually. She wasn’t scared of that per se; she’d always been a sociable person. That had changed with Karen, however, and finding her way back into her own way of life was more difficult than she’d expected it to be, and the fact that she’d kept her a secret from Alec for as long as she had hadn’t made things any easier. But she’d had to tell him. There had been no way round it, and he still loved her in spite of it.

The thing was that she had not expected to fall in love with her fuck buddy, and now she was scared of discovering that what they had was more of a rebound relationship. For both of them.

Holly took a shuddering breath.

What if that was it? What if that was the reason they were both so reluctant to open up to each other? What if in their heart of hearts they knew this was just about the sex and keeping the loneliness at bay? What if that was why they’d subconsciously decided it wasn’t necessary to get to know each other better. After the secrets they had already shared, anything as mundane as interests in pop culture seemed almost ridiculous.

“What are you doing?” she muttered to herself, catching herself on her descent to a pitch black place. She definitely needed to get out to keep these crazy thoughts at bay.

She loved Alec.

Her feelings for him were running deeper than any she’d ever had for another person. People said you could love in different ways, even romantically, and what she felt for Alec was so much more powerful than anything she’d ever felt for a man or a woman.

Her phone rang.

Glad for the distraction, she picked it up, only noticing at the second ring that it was Alec. Her heart beating, she swiped her thumb over the screen to accept the call.

“Hey, you,” she said.

“I was thinking of you,” he said without preamble. “I miss you so much.”

She had to get rid of the knot of tightness in her throat before she was able to squeak, “Yeah, tell me about it. Same here.”

“I’m shopping for Christmas presents,” he said. “It’s bloody awful.”

“Then go home and buy online,” she said, imagining him amidst a crowd of frantic shoppers, people flowing around him, jostling and baffling him with their cheer and urgency.

“Nah, I don’t do that kind of thing. Not for Christmas, anyway,” he said.

She smiled. She’d thought as much. “Where are you?”

“In the textbook section at the local Waterstone’s,” he said. “It’s comparatively calm up here. Although it seems quite a few students ask for the more expensive tomes.”

She ducked her head, pushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “I know. It’s what I used to do.”

He chuckled. “I remember doing that too, but it’s been quite a while for me. I hope I’ll be able to buy Teresa one or two of these books one day.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s at the counsellor’s right now. First session. We’ll see in time, I suppose.”

“Is she still spending Christmas with you and your Dad?”

“Aye,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his brief reply.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. There was no way anyone could have anticipated Gillespie doing what he did, yeah?”

“Easier said than done,” he mumbled.

“I know,” she sighed. “I wish I could be with you right now.”

Alec held his breath briefly, as if to say _Then be with me,_ but he said, “Only a few days more.”

“I just had the most ridiculous thought,” Holly blurted.

“Oh?”

She bit her lip, unsure whether to go on. This shouldn’t be something they discussed over the phone, but given their geographical separation there seemed no other way, and she needed the reassurance. “I’m scared,” she said.

“What of?” he asked, his voice quavering. 

_What have I done?_ There was no way out of this now unless she lied to him or played it down, neither of which he would believe. “Promise me not to get angry.”

“I’m nae sure I can do that.”

“I’m such a mess. Being so far away from you gives me silly ideas,” she began, hoping to get it somehow right.

“You’re questioning the nature of our relationship,” he said.

She nodded.

“Holly?”

“Yes, yes, I did, but I _know_ it’s stupid, right? It’s just… I miss you so much and I was about to leave to buy you something and I realised that I have tons of ideas of what to get the Cinema Club and Ellie and the boys, and even my Mum, but I have no idea what you would like because we never discussed your tastes in anything else but books and—“

“Holly,” he said.

She stopped herself and bit her lip.

“I know.”

“What?”

“We haven’t really had time to get to know each other because we connect on such a basic level that everything else seems unimportant. The things that you find out in bloody small talk,” he said.

She pictured him saying that with obvious disgust writ all over his face. She smiled. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“We’re nae just fuck buddies.”

“Alec!”

“I don’t care who hears this. It’s none of their business anyway.”

“So what do I get the best cop in Britain?”

He snorted. “Have that printed on a t-shirt.”

“What?”

“It’s a joke Ellie made when we first met. About my detecting abilities. We agreed back then I was the worst cop in Britain, and she suggested putting it on a t-shirt.”

“Good thing it’s only a joke. Not a particularly good one either,” Holly grinned. “I’m not going to get you that, though. Seriously. What do you want?”

“I just want _you_ , Holly. I want you without all the distractions,” he said.

Holly sighed. “I want to give you something real.”

“Your love is real,” he said. And after a pause, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I love you, Alec.”

He made a silly, gleeful sound.

She bit her lip.

“I’d like something to remember you by when you’re not there,” he said eventually. “Like the cuppa you gave me.”

“That I can do,” she said.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said.

“Holly, that’s hardly fair.”

“I want you to make me dinner,” she blurted.

“What?” he squeaked.

“I want you to make me dinner. To make use of the kitchen in your flat. It seemed so sad, never been used,” she said.

There was another short pause before he said, “Be careful what you wish for, love.”

“I’d be happy with beans on toast, knowing you made them for me,” she said.

“Beans on toast,” he scoffed. “That’s Broadchurch food.”

“It is? Did they let you make it at the hotel?”

“Nah,” he said. “It’s what I’d make as a wee lad when we didn’t have takeaway or went out for a meal. We didn’t have a Mrs Coulter at Thomas’ Cottage.”

“Your mother wasn’t into cooking?”

“She’d burn water.”

“My mother is a chef,” she blurted. “In Meregate.”

He was quiet again.

“Alec?”

“Don’t tell me she’s at the best hotel the place has to offer,” he said.

She laughed. “No, she doesn’t work in a hotel.”

“Good, because I couldn’t possibly live up to your expectations if she did,” he said.

Holly scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. What do you think I’ve lived on ever since I moved out?”

“Depends on when you moved out.”

“A long time ago.”

He sighed.

“The way to a woman’s heart and everything,” she said.

“I have to go,” he said abruptly. “I’ll see you at the airport, aye?”

And just like that, their conversation was over.

She blinked in confusion as her phone informed her the call had ended. How could she possibly have been so unsure of her love for him minutes ago, and she felt so much better now?

 _I love you, Alec. Thanks for making me feel better,_ she texted him.

-:-

On Christmas Eve, Holly embraced her Mum before they went to bed. “It’s lovely being here,” she said.

“Despite the storm?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. A fierce storm was sweeping across the country, and the forecast wasn’t too positive about it dying down anytime soon; on the contrary, it was expected that the wind and rain increase. Holly was worried about her flight to Glasgow. The Scottish coast wasn’t faring any better than Kent, weather-wise, and she feared that flights as well as trains might be cancelled due to the severe conditions. The news was full of predictions of flooding, toppled trees and houses losing their roofs. There was even talk of massive waves.

“You should check your flight, sweetheart,” her Mum said. “You don’t want to miss an opportunity because you waited too long.”

“I feel a bit bad about it,” Holly said, but the relief in her voice was so obvious that it betrayed her true feelings on the matter. She wanted to go to Brochwinnie so badly and the idea of having to delay or even postpone her trip was unbearable.

“Don’t,” her Mum said. “I’m so glad that you came to stay with us over Christmas. Frankly, I’d expected you to spend it with Alec in the first place.”

Holly sighed. “I just can’t imagine not seeing you at Christmas, Mum. And Gareth is such a dear.”

Her Mum smiled. “Yes, he is, isn’t he.”

They smiled at each other. Another wave of gratitude washed over her and she hugged her Mum again.

“Go and check your flight,” she urged her.

If Holly didn’t want to be with Alec so badly she might have taken umbrage at her Mum’s urging; taken out of context it might seem as if she wasn’t wanted. It was true, in a way. Mum and Gareth were just as much in love as she and Alec were, and of course they craved time to themselves, particularly because of their crazy work schedule. Gareth had to be back at The Blue Oyster for tomorrow’s evening service, having traded the shift with her Mum so she and her Mum could spend Christmas Day together.

In her room, with her laptop on the bed beside her, Holly stared at the screen. Her flight had already been cancelled, due to severe weather conditions.

For a moment, her mind went completely blank and she saw her holiday at Brochwinnie slip away, cut short by the winter storms.

A knock on her door roused her from her stupor. It opened without its characteristic squeak; Gareth must have oiled the hinges.

“Stella sent me up with this for you,” he said, holding out a mug of something steaming hot.

“Oh, thanks,” she said flatly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tentative smile faltering. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” she said, her tone livelier. He must think she didn’t approve of him here. “Sorry, it’s just…”

“Your flight was cancelled?” he asked.

“Yeah. What am I to do now?” she asked.

“Here, have a sip of this first,” he said, sitting on the bed on the other side of the laptop. “May I?”

Taking the mug gingerly, she gestured for him to help himself. He had brought her hot lemon with honey and ginger. As she took in the smell, she discovered something else underneath, though. “Have you laced this?”

“Just a little bit,” he murmured absentmindedly. “Bugger.”

When she sipped the drink carefully, the tartness of the lemon and ginger was immediately smoothed by the honey, but fired up again by a touch of Scotch. “You could just tell me to go to bed if you want to be alone with Mum, you know,” she said.

He winked at her. “She wants you fit for the journey on the plane.”

“Which won’t happen.”

“Of course it will,” he said, digging his phone out of the pocket of his trousers. With a few deft keystrokes and swipes of his fingers, he found what he needed and called the airline.

Holly hurried to get her booking code when she realised what he was doing.

Miraculously, he got through to the booking desk and made arrangements for the next available flight to Glasgow. It was remarkably easy to change her booking once he’d made it unequivocally clear to the clerk that it was of paramount importance that she catch that flight.

Holly simply stared as he wished the clerk a happy Christmas and ended the call. “You’re on the 7 o’clock one tomorrow morning. From Gatwick.”

Holly checked the time on her watch. It was close to 11. “There doesn’t seem much point in going to bed,” she said. “I’d have to—“

“—be at the airport two hours in advance, leave here ninety minutes before that, get up an hour before that—“

“You drive to Gatwick in one and a half hours?”

“It’s Christmas Night, and I’m a bit of a… fast driver. Totally safe, though.”

“Ah,” she grinned.

“So going to bed doesn’t really make much sense,” he continued. “Unless you want your beauty sleep. There’s hardly enough time to sleep on the plane.”

Holly did the math. She’d have to get up at half two in the morning. “You’d drive me?”

“Yup,” he said.

Holly slumped. “I won’t be here for Christmas after all.”

A creak of the floorboards alerted them to her mother’s presence. “We could play games until midnight and exchange gifts before you leave.”

Holly smiled. “I won’t be able to sleep anyway. But I still feel bad for causing you so much trouble. The idea was for us to spend Christmas together.”

“But it wouldn’t be a very happy Christmas if you were pining after Alec, would it?” Gareth pointed out.

“I’m not pining for him!” Holly protested.

Both her Mum and Gareth gave her the look.

“Maybe not pining. But I was so looking forward to seeing him, and the storm…”

Her Mum cupped her cheek. “I want you to be happy, sweetheart. It’s my wish for Christmas, yeah?”

Holly swallowed. She’d never really realised how selfless her Mum was. “Thank you, Mum. Gareth.”

“So, what shall we play? I’m particularly fond of Trivial Pursuit,” Gareth said.

-:-

The flight was terrifying. Once the plane met the expected turbulences caused by the storm Holly understood why flights were being cancelled. She put some relaxing music on her phone and listened to it as she dug her fingers into the armrests and braced herself with her feet on the ground to feel less like a rag doll in her seat. Her only thought was about being in Alec’s arms and kissing him.

She also imagined the surprise on his face when she arrived at Brochwinnie ahead of schedule. Calling him before the flight had not been an option; it was indecently late or cruelly early, and she quite liked the idea of surprising him. Now she wished she had called him. But he’d only worry about her flying in these conditions, and he’d had enough to worry about in the past weeks.

Holly threw up in the airport toilet just after she’d gotten off the plane, and she felt better almost at once. Now she knew why her mother never chose the window seat. As they touched down, and, in fact, before that, the wing had been wobbling terribly, shaking her faith in physics like it never had been before. Once she thought the tip of the wing would touch the tarmac, and when a collective gasp went through the rows in front and behind her she knew she wasn’t the only one to think that.

“You look a bit peaky, lass,” the cabbie greeted her.

“The flight was a bit rough,” she said, giving him her bag to put in the boot.

“The things we do at Christmas, eh?”

“The things we do for love,” she smiled.

“Ah, now that’s entirely different then. So where does your beau live?”

Holly slid into the rear seat and gave him the address.

“Ye’re Alec’s lassie?” he asked, turning around in his seat.

 _Does everyone here know Alec?_ She wondered.

“I’m from the village, and what with the Sandbrook girls, ye see,” he said by way of apology.

“Yeah, I am,” she said.

“Lucky bugger,” the cabbie said, turning the key in the ignition. “I’ll drive as carefully as possible. Weather’s a fright. Tell ye what. I was on my home anyway, so consider the ride on the house, eh? Christmas and all…”

After she had protested politely and he had insisted just as politely, he pulled into the traffic and drove her to Brochwinnie. Again, she barely noticed the passing scenery.

Her mobile rang shortly before the turn-off to the stud. It was Alec.

“Hey, you,” he said. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas,” she grinned. Suddenly, she was giddy with joy, and her heart was fluttering like there was something trapped in her chest.

“I wish you were here now,” he continued. “Seems your flight was cancelled.”

“Yeah, yeah, it was,” she said.

“You seem very calm about it,” he said, disappointment lacing his voice.

They pulled into the drive of the stud. She could see the house behind the bare trees.

“Well, I’ve already made arrangements, so that’s that,” she said, catching the cabbie winking at her in the rearview mirror.

“Ah. You wouldn’t care to share them?”

“I would, yeah,” she replied.

The car stopped.

“Are you in a car?” Alec asked when he couldn’t hear the sound of the engine any more.

“In a taxi.”

There was a short pause and she could hear a young voice in the background. It must be Teresa. “Dad!” she cried. “Dad you might—“

“I’m on the phone, darlin’.”

“Sod the phone, Dad.”

“Oi, language.”

“Alec? Alec, love, listen to Teresa,” Holly said, unbuckling the safety belt and getting out.

“Why?” he asked warily.

“Dad! It’s Holly! She’s here.”


	29. Twenty-Nine

Twenty-Nine

Alec sat on the edge of his bed, watching Holly sleep. He hadn’t realised how knackered she’d been until she’d dozed off over her slice of toast and a cup of coffee. After a quick shower, she’d fallen asleep in his bed before she’d even had a chance to make herself comfortable. He’d meant to change the sheets before she arrived, but it was too late for that now.

Her hair had dried, and it was fanned out around her head, the locks looking darker against the white pillow case. He’d lifted her feet onto the bed and tucked her in; she was sleeping naked, too tired to go through her bag for her jimjams. He really liked having her naked in his bed. He wanted it to be like this every evening and every night and every morning. And during the day as well.

A flush of arousal brought his skin and other parts of his anatomy alive.

He still couldn’t believe that she was really here. The news on the telly had shown gruesome footage of destruction the still raging storm was inflicting across the country. So much for a peaceful, let alone merry, Christmas, for thousands of people without power and no means to travel because of the gale-force winds, washed-way roads and flooded railways. So far, Brochwinnie had been spared the worst, but he wouldn’t rest easily until it was really over.

The most important thing was that Holly was here now, safe and sound. She’d mentioned that the flight had been horrible, and he didn’t dare let his imagination loose, it would undoubtedly make things even worse than they actually were, and that had been bad enough. At least she’d got through to her mum on the phone to let her know that she’d arrived safely.

She’d wanted to spend Christmas with her Mum, and now she was here with him instead. He’d been happy enough that she’d want to spend Hogmanay with him in the first place, but Christmas was an entirely different story, for both of them. They’d never openly discussed it, but from what he could tell, she attached just as great an importance to the holiday and spending it with her family as he did. Which was why he’d not pressed her to spend the entirety of her Christmas holidays with him in Brochwinnie.

He wanted nothing more than to curl up beside her and watch her sleep, but he’d come upstairs briefly to check on her before going out to look after the horses. Most of them were outside where they wouldn’t mind the din of the storm too much. They were in a field where they would be safe from blowing debris, and there was a shelter they could move into if they needed to. 

Picking up the note he’d left for her next to a glass of water in case she was thirsty, he quickly scanned the words to make sure she’d feel welcome even in his absence and make herself at home. He’d put three kisses next to his name. It felt a bit silly, but he couldn’t bring himself to write the three little words on a note like this. It just didn’t feel right, so the kisses would have to do.

Adjusting the covers a bit where they had slipped off her shoulder, he tiptoed out of the room and went downstairs. 

“Is she all right?” his father asked when he joined him in the cloak room. Alec sat down to put on his warm walking boots and the thick coat he generally wore for outings and to work in the stables. It was a bit loose, but it’d have to do. There was no point in buying a new since he didn’t plan on staying there for long.

“She’s sleeping like a baby,” Alec said. “I had no idea she’d stayed up all night.”

“I’m glad she’s here,” Dad said. “I hope I’ll get to know her a wee bit better. She’s a fine lass.”

“Aye,” Alec agreed. “That she is. She cut her stay at her Mum’s short for me.”

“You’d do the same for her, son.”

“Dad,” he began.

“No, I mean that without being bitter. I know I made mistakes.”

“It’s not about that. It’s—”

“Even if things between us were as good as they seem to be between Holly and her mother, I’m sure you’d have done the same thing. Imagine passing each other in the air,” he chuckled.

Alec chuckled too.

“I’m glad that you decided to stay here for Christmas,” his father said, sobering.

“Aye,” he said briefly, pulling up the zip on his coat.

“There is something I want to tell you,” Dad began. “And please, just hear me out. That’s all I want, eh?”

Sighing, Alec nodded for him to go ahead.

“One of the biggest mistakes I made was not insisting that Fran take up the cello again after the accident. Part of her died when she stopped playing, the part I loved her for most. She was such a great musician, and when she played she was so alive, so much herself,” he said, his gaze turning inward.

Alec cleared his throat. He’d not expected a revelation of this magnitude.

“The reason I’m telling you is I want you to think very carefully before giving up something that is such an essential part of you.”

Alec blinked. “So when you… ask me to stay at Brochwinnie it’s not actually about running the stud?”

His father smiled softly. “Not entirely. I _know_ you’d be unhappy with the business part of it. But I also know you haven’t been yourself since Norris died. And I miss that part of my son.” He tipped his cap as he pressed past him and out into the gale.

“Dad!” Alec called, but the storm tore the single syllable apart. It never reached his father’s ears.

Why hadn’t he just said that earlier instead of making things worse by pressing him? If he’d known that that’s what was at the bottom of things, he might have made completely different decisions. He might not have made decisions that he still believed were good ones, either, though. He might still have made them, but without the feeling of resentment and protest.

And there was something else too. Holly loved him the way he was now, with the dead part inside him. Would she love the old him, the passionate rider, too? He was afraid of finding out. She might not love the whole man now that she’d fallen in love with this broken man. In a way, she was making him a new whole, a whole that did without the horses. Or at least tried to.

Because if he was honest, he loved working with Ruby. Loved being in her towering yet gentle presence, the soft, deep sounds she made when she ate or scratched the ground soothed his soul. He loved her warm breath in his face. And he loved the quiet understanding they had, a connection that did not need words.

What if Holly didn’t understand that, or worse, didn’t accept it?

He shook his head before he pulled the simple black beanie firmly over his ears. He was being _glaikit_ , he knew that, but there was a part of him that wouldn’t let it go. Taking a deep breath, he braved the storm for the short walk across the courtyard to the stables.

-:-

It was only when Alec stepped into the warm, still air in the house that he realised how thoroughly frozen-through he was. But the gale and the rain had helped him think about his father’s stunning revelation, and out there no one had heard his howls of anguish and rage. Once he’d released his inner pain, he’d been able to think more clearly.

It wasn’t just his father’s fault that his mother had never touched a cello again. She had been a strong woman, and while his father’s encouragement certainly would have been welcome, she must have had a reason why she never played again. Alec had no idea what that might have been, and he was unlikely to ever know, unless he asked his dad. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer, even if Dad had one. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

Now he understood, however, why neither his father nor his best friend ever stopped urging him to return to life as a horseman. He was surprised that his father had somehow found the fortitude to talk to him about it, he was baffled that Moray never had. They’d always been able to confide in each other, and they never pussyfooted around delicate topics, or at least he thought they had. It was what he loved most about Moray. They could discuss things plainly and address issues directly. Thanks to him, Alec had screwed up his courage two years ago and asked Em for a separation. It had hurt like hell, and he’d felt like a royal fuck-up, but they both knew that ultimately they’d destroy whatever was left of that first intoxicating stage of love. And themselves. Em had been relieved, and she’d told him that if he hadn’t taken the first step, she’d have asked him for a divorce. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better, but it certainly had cleared the air between them, and the divorce had gone through as cleanly as possible, though not any less painfully. At least there hadn’t been any nastiness. Em hadn’t even asked him not to take the blame for the break-up when they’d told Teresa. He still had no idea how she felt about it.

It didn’t really matter.

The most important thing was that he had Teresa back. That was certainly the second biggest mistake in his life.

 _There you have it,_ he thought, closing the door to his flat behind him. _Giving up riding was a mistake. But what now?_

He carefully opened the door to his bedroom. Holly was still asleep, so he padded to the en-suite, avoiding the creaky floorboards as best he could, and closed the door with a soft snick.

The shower would in all likelihood wake her, but he was soaked through from both rain and sweat, and he was so cold his fingernails had taken on an unhealthy bluish tinge. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he saw a rosy-cheeked face with the same bluish hue to his lips, and hair that was plastered to his skull from having been trapped underneath the warm beanie.

He quickly disrobed and ran the shower, stepping beneath the hot jets of water with a luxurious sigh. The water pelted down on him with such power that it would help work out the knots in his shoulders. The horses had been fine, and some of them had come to check on him, it seemed, as he’d stood at the fence, offering them treats. Ruby had been the first to come, and she seemed to be fine. He’d had no idea if she would be all right out in the open in this kind of storm, and he was glad to see that there was no reason to worry about her. 

Thinking of Holly in the next room, he made the shower a quick one. She’d been asleep for five hours now, and it would soon be time to join the rest of the family for Christmas dinner. They usually had their feast in the early evening because everyone tended to get up late in the morning and unwrap their presents. Then they’d all help to prepare the food. Not so today. The storm had awakened them all early, and he was glad because he’d have hated not being there for Holly’s very early arrival. 

She was on her stomach when he stepped out of the en-suite with only a towel around his hips. He hadn’t brought any fresh pants into the bathroom because he’d not wanted to wake her by opening the creaky underwear drawer. He made a mental note to fix the thing the next chance he got.

“Hey you,” she mumbled drowsily.

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t worry.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. He noticed that she’d made herself at home and lay sprawled across his bed; he couldn’t blame her. Just like him, she was used to having the whole bed to herself. Brushing back a lock of hair from her face, he bent to kiss her temple. “Sleep well?”

She hummed in reply, her eyes closing at his kiss.

He smiled, making himself more comfortable, which involved getting rid of the towel. For a few, long moments he just sat there looking at her. The duvet had come down nearly to her bum, exposing the gentle slope of her spine to him. There were a few small moles scattered alongside it, and they were just too delicious to resist. He also admired the planes of her shoulder-blades, and the way they jutted sharply, her skin taut where it plunged to cover her ribs. She was a bit too skinny for his taste; her ribs were visible. Hopefully, that was only because the past few weeks had been stressful. She could do with an extra pound or two to bring out the softness in her wonderful curves.

He reached out, unable to resist her soft skin any longer, and connected the moles on her back with invisible lines with his fingertips.

Holly purred. He thought she’d fallen asleep again. Her eyes hadn’t opened since he’d kissed her.

“Is this all right?” he asked. So far, he’d never touched her without asking her consent first.

“Love it. More please,” she mumbled. Her lips were squashed and more pouty, because the side of her face was pressed against the pillow.

He began to run his fingers lightly over her back, mapping out its topography. He could even feel the ridges of her ribs, and he bent to trace them with his tongue and lips when feeling them wasn’t enough. He needed to taste her.

“That’s nice,” she sighed, holding still.

He didn’t reply verbally. Following sudden inspiration, he pulled the duvet off her body and started to lick and kiss his way up it systematically, taking time to suckle at her winter-softened heels and ankles. He resisted leaving his mark in the hollows of the backs of her knees, but he found the globes of her bum too enticing. He bit each one in turn, laving them with his tongue, and even dipping briefly to her pussy and the other opening before moving on to explore her back. He nuzzled her neck and nibbled at her earlobe, all the while encouraged by her gentle sighs. When he touched her between her legs with his tongue she bucked briefly, moaning, but she soon settled down again when he caressed her.

“Alec?” she murmured.

“Aye?”

“Fuck me, please.”

Startled at first at her request, he straddled her thighs to make her wet for him, only to find that she already was opening up for him, her juices glistening in invitation on her pussy lips. He gave himself a few powerful tugs to prepare himself for her. He was half-hard already, but it wouldn’t be enough to push into her.

Rising, he patted her bum. “Up you get, love,” he said, and to his surprise, she pushed herself up on all fours, looking back at him.

“Please, Alec. My love,” she said, the amber almost gone from her eyes. 

“Need a condom first,” he said.

“No,” she protested. “I want you to come on my back. I want to really feel it.”

Alec stared at her, his cock twitching in response. It alone seemed to understand at once the eroticism of what it was she asked. He’d dreamed of being inside her without the protective layer of latex ever since they’d forgotten about protection. But if he was honest, he didn’t trust himself to pull out in time. He told her.

“I’m on the pill, Alec. And I’m clean,” she said.

He nodded. He’d only had sex with her since Em and he had broken up, long before the divorce.

“Please,” she asked.

He spread her lips with his thumbs and took the plunge.

Being inside her was like coming home. It was even better than he remembered, and for a long time he stayed buried inside her as far as he could go just to enjoy their connection. Placing one hand on her hip, he caressed her concave back with the other, running his flat palm and his fingertips in turns over every bit of her skin that he could reach. When he wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck, Holly stiffened.

She turned back to look at him. “Anything but that,” she said, “That and taking my ass.”

He blushed. “Sorry,” was all that he was able to mutter. The other thing, taking her ass, as she’d put it, hadn’t even occurred to him. 

She smiled at him. “Alec, please. I need to come.”

He obliged her. Anything for her. He established a gentle rhythm, pulling out of her completely before returning to her warmth, then he began to pick up the speed of his strokes and the room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin. 

After a few minutes he slowed down. He didn’t want it to be that way. It had been a while, and he wanted to feel as much of her against his skin as possible. Pressing the flat of his hand against her lower back, she lay prone once more, and he stretched out on top of her, taking care to keep his full weight off her. “All right?” he breathed, nuzzling her shoulder.

“Oh yes,” she moaned. Her fingers clawed the pillow in search of purchase, and she twisted beneath him so that he ended up taking her from the side, with the added benefit that he had full access to her chest. He leaned down to lick her nipples. They were hard and yet rubbery as he twirled his tongue around them, but most of all he loved the feeling he gave her. Her pussy muscles clamped down around him and she moaned and shuddered at his ministrations.

“Please pull out when you come,” she said, “I want to watch.”

Part of his foggy mind thought that she’d go down on him if she wanted that, but he wanted to make her come first. Although, knowing her, she wouldn’t see much of him erupting all over her.

He pulled out of her. “Touch yourself,” he said.

To her surprise, she did.

Then he gave himself a few sharp pulls and twists, brushing his thumb over the head of his cock to tease himself. Combined with the sight of Holly pleasuring herself, he came, erupting all over her lower abdomen in thick globs.

Holly hadn’t come, but she was close. Still panting, he brushed away her expert fingers and drew his tongue up between her pussy lips, sucking her clit into his mouth. Holly came screaming, and she fell from her orgasm right into his arms as he hurried to stretch out beside her to wrap himself around her, connected also by the stickiness he’d spread there earlier.


	30. Thirty

Thirty

Alec knew that they should make themselves presentable and join the others downstairs. But lying wrapped in Holly’s warmth he was disinclined to do anything but play with her breast and nuzzle her collarbone and neck. Her fingers were drawing some abstract work of art onto his skin.

“What would you do if one day you couldn’t draw any more?” he asked, watching his fingers circle her aureola. He let them travel outwards in a spiralling motion, away from the centre of so much pleasure and taking in the softness of her flesh.

“I don’t know, I suppose it depends on why I couldn’t draw anymore,” she replied eventually.

“If you lost your right index finger,” he said.

“Oh. Like that,” she said. “I suppose I’d have a prosthetic made. Like in the film. _The Piano_. Do you know it?”

He lifted his head off her shoulder. “No, I don’t. And it worked? They could play again?”

“ _She_ could play again. Yes. Of course, with drawing it’d be different. I think I’d have to learn how to compensate with my middle finger.”

“Flip the lost finger the bird,” Alec chuckled.

“You, Alec Hardy, are incredibly rude,” she said.

“Aye, well.”

“It’s your prosthetic, isn’t it? The rudeness? Because you’re normally so sweet and cuddly.”

He sat up abruptly. “I’m nae such thing.”

“Oh yes, you are. With me, and with Teresa, and I bet that there was a time when other people had the great privilege to see you like this too. Sandbrook changed you, didn’t it?” she asked, holding his gaze evenly. She meant every word. Holly had that serious look about her at times like this. When he failed to reply, too stunned that she’d figured him out, she continued. “It wasn’t Sandbrook, though, was it? It’s something older. Something cataclysmic.”

He lay down beside her on his back, staring at the exposed rafters above them. It was terrifying, yet somehow quite liberating, how well she knew him. “My mother gave up playing the cello after a freak accident. It really shouldn’t have happened. But you could say that about all accidents,” he mused.

“I suppose so,” Holly agreed, rolling onto her side so she could look at him. He kept staring at the ceiling. It was easier to figure out what to say if he wasn’t looking at her.

“We hosted an archery competition once, along with a mediaeval market thing and a jousting tournament. Brochwinnie used to be part of the castle grounds, and it was an anniversary of some kind,” he said. “Mum was hit in the shoulder by a stray arrow. There was nothing they could do for her shoulder. She retained the use of her arm, but just for ordinary tasks, but not playing an instrument.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been horrible. I can’t imagine how devastating it was,” she said. It was amazing how patiently she could wait for him to make his point. Em was always so demanding. She wanted the short version. It had driven them both spare at times; he needed as much detail as he could get. On the other hand, they’d taken advantage of the combination of their temperament during interviews. Many a suspect had crumpled in the face of their power.

“I gave up riding because of an accident,” he said. “I wasn’t physically disabled by it, but it left me emotionally crippled. Hence the swearing and the grumpiness.”

“You don’t have any visible scars either,” Holly said. Of course she’d notice. Her eyes had learned to spot the unusual, just like he had in the course of his training. Only he looked at things with suspicion rather than the joy of finding something unexpectedly beautiful.

“I started out with the mounted police. There was a much-anticipated and important football match, and we were called in for crowd control. Everything went fine until we were on our way back to the parking lot where the horse trailers were parked. A motorcyclist came out of nowhere, and he startled us. Norris, my horse, leapt aside and slipped. His skull was cracked so badly that he had to be put down,” he said softly. The memories were still vivid, and he could hear the agonised screams of his horse. He didn’t remember his own; though he must have screamed too. His leg had been broken in the fall, and probably exacerbated by Norris’ weight, but he’d been so focused on Norris that he hadn’t paid any attention to himself.

“Oh God,” Holly said.

“I asked the vet to let me put him down.”

“And you did.”

“I wanted to do it for him because I loved that crazy bugger of a horse. I didn’t want it to be someone who didn’t care the way I did. I haven’t been on horseback since.”

Holly was quiet for a while. “I don’t know what to say,” she said eventually.

He turned his head and looked at her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that part of me died when I had to put him down.”

She frowned. “What about your leg?”

“I was lucky. It was broken, and I had quite a few bruises. But losing Norris broke something inside me. I know it was a freak accident, but I never felt safe after that,” he said. It was hard to put in words, but Holly seemed willing to listen, to understand. If she didn’t, at least she didn’t try to talk him round, and he loved her even more for that. 

“Dad and Moray keep trying to persuade me to stay, to return to riding. Dad told me this morning that he blames himself for not pushing Mum hard enough after her accident. I think it’s why their marriage had deteriorated so badly, only beginning to repair itself shortly before Mum died.”

“I didn’t know you before the accident,” she reminded him. “I fell in love with the way you were in Broadchurch.”

His eyes widened in surprise. 

She cupped his cheek. “Can’t you feel it? Sweet and cuddly?”

“I’m nae _sweet_ ,” he protested gruffly.

“But cuddly. You’re the biggest cuddler ever. And that’s why I love you,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to stay in Broadchurch. I’ve got you and Ellie there,” he said.

“What about Ruby?” She scooted closer and draped her leg over his. Wrapping his arm around her, he kissed her.

“She isnae mine. Dad took her in as a livery horse,” he said.

“I don’t want you to stay in Broadchurch just because of me. I’m only temping at South Wessex,” she reminded him.

It took Alec a while to understand what her statement implied. Any way he put it, it sounded self-centred. “You’d seriously come up here?” he asked eventually.

“Yeah.”

He moved away a little so he could see her face better. “You’d really do that for me?”

“You’d stay in Broadchurch for me,” she pointed out. “Which is not a very good reason because I might be out of a job next autumn.”

“Tell you what,” he said, suddenly seeing clearly. “We’ll stay in Broadchurch for as long as you’ve got a job. The Scottish police will take me on any time. I’ve had offers and I know they still stand.”

“Really? Why don’t we—“

“We.”

“Yeah,” Holly said. “If that’s okay.”

He grinned madly. “It’s more than okay.”

They kissed, and he looked at her happily when they eventually came up for breath.

“So you’d… If I asked you,” she began, but faltered.

“Ask me what?” 

“Would you marry me?”

He’d not seen that one coming. He was an old-fashioned kind of man, so at first he thought she was joking, but when he saw the same seriousness in her eyes she’d worn earlier, he understood that she meant it.

His heart skipped a beat. It was a light fluttering in his chest, and he gasped.

Holly’s eyes widened. “I’m… I’m sorry. That was… quite forward, and… Never mind.”

“No. I mean, yes.” There was only one way to answer her question. His heart was racing along in his chest now, and it was the best feeling in the world, better even than asking the question himself.

She blinked. “What?”

“Yes, I would,” he said. “I _will_ marry you. Happily. Gladly.”

-:-

How they managed to keep their engagement a secret from everyone that day was a mystery to both of them. The Christmas cheer and the busy kitchen certainly had something to do with it. Not only had Em and Flo come for dinner, but Moray and Han had joined them too. Everyone probably just thought that her presence made him happy, and she was glad to let them believe that. When she and Alec had a moment to themselves in the kitchen they agreed not to tell anyone just yet. He wanted to take his time. He needed to discuss things with Teresa and Moray separately. He felt he owed them that much.

“What’s the etiquette anyway?” she asked, drawing him close by his collar for a kiss.

“Etiquette?” he parroted in a daze.

“I haven’t got a ring for you. Isn’t it traditional to give your partner a ring?”

He chuckled. “I don’t need a ring. I mean, I’ll probably want one when we get married. What about you? Do you want an engagement ring?”

“I asked you,” she reminded him.

“Let me give you one anyway. Please. I’d love to give you something beautiful.”

She kissed him. “I’ve already got that.”

He frowned.

“You. I think you’re unbelievably beautiful.”

Colour rose to his face, and it even reached the very tips of his ears. Smiling, she kissed him again. Which is how Teresa found them.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

Holly blushed too, and she hated that he got away so easily on the question of the engagement ring.

“Resie,” he squeaked. 

“I was wondering if Holly and I could have a minute,” she said.

His eyes widened. “Of course,” he said, exchanging glances with her. She nodded. He kissed her briefly and left them.

Holly found herself stiffening slightly at the girl’s request, and she sought support from the edge of the counter behind her. Miraculously, they still had the kitchen to themselves. She tried to smile, but found it shaky and artificial. She sobered.

“Thank you for coming here to stay with Dad while I was… missing,” Teresa said.

Holly relaxed. “I couldn’t stand the idea of him being by himself.”

They smiled at each other. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you anything for Christmas,” Holly said eventually. She had already apologised to Teresa for not having anything for her, but she did promise to take her on a shopping trip in the city, but it sounded a bit pathetic now.

“You don’t have to give me anything,” Teresa said. “But I like the idea of getting to know you. I was a bit daunted at first.”

“Daunted?” Holly asked, playing with her pendant.

“You seem like such a great person. And a teacher. I’ve never spent time with a teacher outside of school-related situations,” she said.

“Oh,” Holly chuckled. “We’re just normal people, really.”

They were interrupted then by Han and Iris bursting into the kitchen, laughing about something.

“All right, hen?” Han asked.

Teresa blushed slightly and picked up a tangerine from the bowl of fruit. “Aye.”

“Holly, would you mind peeling the potatoes?” Iris asked.

“Of course,” Holly said, glad to be able to do something. As she fetched the bowl of boiled potatoes, she leaned in conspiratorially to Teresa and whispered, “You know, the feeling of being daunted is mutual. Your father adores you.”

Teresa stopped peeling the tangerine. A whiff of citrus caught in Holly’s nostril, and combined with the cooking smells, she was transported back to her own childhood Christmas. She hadn’t had a tangerine yet this winter.

“Here’s the wine,” Moray announced cheerfully as he and Alec entered the spacious kitchen, carrying two bottles of wine each. They were a bit dusty, and Alec went straight to the sink to wipe them. The bottles were shiny black underneath the layer.

She settled on one of the stools at the breakfast bar with a paring knife and a few sheets of newsprint and set to work while everyone around her settled down to do their own chore. Eventually, a glass of wine materialised in front of her, accompanied by a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“That’s usually my job,” Alec said, resting his hand on her thigh, where it was least distracting.

“Do you want to take over?” she asked, not looking up from what she was doing. The skins came off easily, and she dropped them on the ever-growing heap before her.

“Nah, Dad, I will,” Teresa said, popping the last piece of fruit into her mouth, she went to get a knife. She elbowed him rudely away as she climbed onto the stool next to Holly and reached for a potato.

Holly shrugged. “Seems you’ll have to find yourself another job.”

“It’s so good to feel needed,” he chuckled.

“You could give me a drink,” Holly said, holding up her sticky fingers, never letting go of the half-peeled potato and the knife.

He picked up her glass of wine and put it to her lips. If they’d been alone, and if Alec hadn't been on his medication, Holly would have hoped to taste the wine off his lips and tongue.

“It’s a bit cold still, and it needs more air,” Moray advised. “Let it sit a while yet.”

“It’s lovely, but I think I’ll stick to water,” Holly said. She looked at the glass of water Alec had poured for himself, deciding to support him. 

“Don’t say no on my account,” Alec said, dropping the tangerine peel Teresa had left behind on the heap of potato skins. “I’ll live.”

Moray gave her a puppy-eyed look, and she sighed. “One glass.” 

Alec’s best friend grinned widely. “That’s my girl,” he said, but snagged the bottle up as he was about to pour her more. “Unless, of course, you don’t like it. No need to be polite. It’s a strong one, it might be too much.”

“Are you calling me a lightweight?” Holly asked. “I get on very well with the sommelier of the restaurant where my mum’s a chef.” 

“Oh. It doesnae tickle everyone’s palate is what I meant to say.”

Holly nodded, returning to peeling the potatoes and sat in silence while the members of the Brochwinnie household flowed around her in their practised ease of many Christmas dinners prepared together.

“Your mum’s restaurant has a sommelier?” Alec asked.

Holly looked from Moray to him. “Yeah, it does.”

“I thought she didn’t work at a posh place,” he said.

She laughed and cupped his cheek with her starch-stained hand. “You asked me if she worked in a restaurant at a hotel.”

He flushed. “Must be getting rusty.”

“No, you’re just relaxing, dear,” Em quipped in. She’d been following their conversation from the other side of the counter.

Holly kissed his cheek, which was slack with bafflement, and then picked up a towel to rub the starch and bits of potato off his skin. “I suppose that’s true.”

“And it’s all thanks to you, Holly,” Em said. “You’ve brought the old Alec back.”

It was her turn now to colour. She wasn’t sure what it was that she had done apart from loving him.

“Well, we should have a toast anyway,” Iain said, having filled elegant crystal glasses with the champagne Moray had brought. “And that means all of us, Alec. One sip won’t hurt. And there’s a glass for you, too, _cagaran_.” He handed one half-full glass to her, and another to Alec, who accepted it without much ado.

“What are we toasting?”

“Family, friends. Christmas,” Iain said, distributing the rest of the glasses with a smile for every recipient. “And love.” He gave Iris a glass and kissed her. “It’s time we stopped pretending, eh?”

For a moment Holly thought that they were going to announce their engagement, but they didn’t. This was just about telling them that they were together. She caught Alec’s intense gaze and felt herself glow, but a quick smile was enough for them to silently confirm with one another that they would keep their engagement a secret. For now.


End file.
